


Courtship of a feral prince

by AtlantisT



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Byleth gets better too, Courtship, Dimitri gets better, Feels, Feral Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth Has Emotions, Post-Time Skip, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 06:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20616827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtlantisT/pseuds/AtlantisT
Summary: Once again reunited with the professor and old classmates, Dimitri is still far from okay. In his half-feral state, a sudden thought plagues him. He does not want to part from Byleth. How can he assure that the man will always stay by him? That he will always be at his side?It may be the most down-to-earth courtship in all of Foldan. But the worst part? It’s kinda working.Local feral prince attempting to woo his former professor using dead animals, grooming methods and shows of vulnerability. They get better in the process.





	1. Realisation

After a moment, Dimitri started to get better. 

He had not escaped the darkness by any mean, still plagued by nightmares and voices. Instinct and survival were his driving forces. His days were spent alone brooding in the ruined chapel, when he was not on the battlefield offering corpses to the dead. His words were few, harsh and cutting. He had no need for compassion, and no patience for the living. His guard was never down, listening and looking out for foolish visitors. They were few: mostly Dedue, always loyal to his liege even in his state. Dimitri never moved, and Dedue never approached.

The only one for whom the prince would respond was Byleth. 

The professor often visited him, silent as always. Sometimes, he would stay behind him, meters away, and Dimitri would feel his eyes on his back, watching him like a hawk. Despise the vulnerability of the position, Dimitri would allow it. He couldn’t explain why.

Other times, Byleth would approach him and stand by his side, still not uttering a sound. They were so close that it would take nothing but an instant to stab each other. To kill each other. Byleth was often disarmed when visiting Dimitri, except for the decorative dagger on his belt. It would take so little to turn to his side and break his neck.

When those dark thoughts were floating in Dimitri’s head, Byleth would turn to him, and their eyes would meet. Gazing at those pool of green, Dimitri would be reminded of another predator. Byleth expression was far from blank or empty: it was calculating, analysing, waiting for the moment to strike. Two beasts sizing each other.

The thoughts would go away.

Dimitri was far from better. But he was starting to listen to Byleth. To allow himself some trust. He was not even aware of it. It was so natural for the professor to stand by his side. There was no gentle coercing, no unnecessary talk, no pity. Just… a sort of companionship.

The beast that was Dimitri had taken interested. Byleth was worthy. Always has been, always will be. Remains of an adolescent love went to his mind. How to assure the man will always stay by him? That he will always be at his side?

There was but a unique path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Step 1: Chosing a plan of action


	2. Gifts

While Garreg Mach was their centre of operation, it was not uncommon for Byleth and the former blue lions to leave the monastery to attend to local problems: from bandits to demonic beasts, the Empire wasn’t their only source of trouble.

On the occasion that their group would travel many days, they would camp outside. It was kind of nostalgic: falling back into an old routine reminiscent of their school-days, the group would split themselves in different missions.

Sylvain and Felix would search for wood, while keeping an eye open for hidden enemies. Ingrid would scout the sky and watch the camp from above on her pegasus. Annette and Mercedes would tend to the wounded or install the bedding. Dedue would gather comestible herbs and ingredients, while Ashe started the fire he would use to cook. Byleth was usually the one hunting, bringing back a prey he would skin and prepare for Ashe to use.

Fresh food was always better for the morale, but they had some rations that nobody liked if need be. Bad food was better than no food. It was no time to be picky. Still, it was fortunate that Byleth was a good hunter.

Dimitri would stand to the side, often drenched in blood or gore from the fight. He would not drop his guard, his eye surveying camp and its surrounding. Dedue, Byleth, or Ashe when he was feeling brave, would brought him food that he would accept grudgingly and ate quickly.

Not today. As they were beginning to establish a camp for the night, Dimitri had disappeared. Dedue had been quick to note and was ready to go to his pursuit. The professor had stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“He will be back.” Byleth’s tone was absolute, his conviction unwavering. The prince shield nodded in acceptance. He trusted his old professor’s judgment. Still, if his highness wasn’t back before the night, Dedue would go after him. Byleth knew and would probably follow.

Byleth was readying himself for a hunt when a nearby breaking branch shifted his attention from his arrows to the forest. Something was coming. Big. Probably dangerous. Byleth’s hand was already on his sword. The leaves parted to reveal Dimitri. He was carrying something on his shoulder like it weighted nothing. No apparent injuries. In five steps he had cross from forest to camp and was standing in front of the professor. It was a dead boar he was hoisting. Freshly killed, its neck snapped in half.

“For you.”

The animal was deposed at Byleth feet. It made a loud sound and the earth trembled a little. Byleth estimated the boar weight to at least a hundred kilo. It would be more than enough for everyone, with a little extra to spare for the next day.

Everyone in the camp was silent. Nobody moved.

“Thank you.” Simply replied Byleth.

Dimitri nodded, before retreating to the outskirt of their little campsite like usual. Close but not too close. His eye was fixated on Byleth. Or maybe it was on the boar he had just brought. Loosing no time, Byleth traded his bow for a hunter knife, and began to work.

Whispers were traded behind him. He heard a “what the hell?” from Sylvain, and the hushed voices of both Annette and Mercedes.

The boar was most unusual coming from Dimitri it’s true. Those days, the prince was more active on the battlefield than in helping set camp. Still, it was a good effort from his part. It’s nice that he was trying to help. 

Byleth had no time for useless hopes. He knew that Dimitri would escape from the darkness. For as long as necessary, Byleth would hold out his hand, ready to bring him to the light. There was no doubt in his mind.

But he was a little happy to see Dimitri doing something for others.

That night, Byleth was the one to bring him food. It was a stew with a delightful aroma, the well cooked meat separating with ease. Dimitri accepted his portion in silence. Byleth looked at him, deciphering his mood, before sitting next to him. For a moment, Dimitri stilled, before relaxing infinitesimally. Byleth took it as acceptance and began eating. What they were doing was no different from what they had done multiple times before. Standing side by side, in silence. Still, Byleth was feeling as if something was starting to change. 

### 

On the next day, it was an elk that Dimitri brought back. 

The prince had once again disappeared right after it was decided to camp. This time, everyone had noticed his absence, and commented on it. He was probably hunting again.

“Is the battlefield not even enough for the boar now?” had remarked Felix.

Was it possible? For a moment, Byleth wondered, before remembering yesterday. “For you” had uttered Dimitri. It was no carnage or blood lust, but an attempt to provide help. It was a good thing. Next to an hour later, Dimitri came back. The prince was uninjured from the hunt and carrying an elk. Impressive, managing to track and kill one, and to bring it to camp. The animal was relatively small for his specie, probably young, but it was still more than enough.

Byleth didn’t have the heart to tell Dimitri that the boar from yesterday would have sufficed to make it back to the monastery. Dimitri was not smiling (he didn’t smile much now), but there was something in his eye, like a spark. Maybe something akin to pride?

Again, Dimitri went to him with his kill. Byleth had his hunting knife, still sheathed. It was better to have no weapon drawn in Dimitri proximity.

“For you.” The elk, like the boar, made a loud noise when touching the ground.

“Thank you.” Byleth responded once more.

The rest of the blue lions were already furiously whispering to each other.

### 

The third kill was in Byleth’s eyes both stupid and impressive.

They would be back to Garreg Mach the next day, and already had more meat that was necessary. Not one to waste, Byleth had still prepared the excess, fuming it using the wood they had gathered. It was good meat. They had more than enough. Hunting would be a loss of energy. Maybe he should have verbalized to Dimitri that hunting would not be necessary? Dimitri might have thought that fresh food was the best way to help.

As they were setting camp, the prince had escaped from their notice and slipped into the forest. It was already too late before they realized it. They could only wait for him to come back, probably with another animal. But as the sun was setting down and Dimitri had yet to come back, worry began to spread around camp. Dimitri was strong, stronger than most, but he may have encountered beasts, bandits, or something worst. He may have been in danger. Ashe and Annette were visibly anxious. Dedue was already taking his axe, ready to investigate.

Then, a noise was heard from the forest. Friend or foes? Dimitri maybe? The head of a massive bear appeared from behind the branches. Dedue and Byleth readied themselves for a fight. Dimitri head followed suit: he was carrying the corpse of an adult brown bear. 

Byleth took in the scene of the prince carrying a mass of fur nearly double his size on his back. Dimitri seemed to have more problem with the bulk of the thing rather than the no doubt heavy weight of the animal. Ignoring the fact that no normal human could bear this load. As the professor was looking at the pristine fur of the beast, he realized that Dimitri had probably killed the bear with his bare hand, like the boar and the elk. Was he injured? It was difficult to see with the mass of fur blocking the way. But he was having no problem walking, and no blood followed his path. Good. 

Dimitri presented the bear to Byleth. As he stood, liberated of the weight of his prey, Byleth could attest that no injuries had befallen him. He nodded to himself, satisfied. Still, while very impressive, Byleth would have liked him to stay at camp rather than endanger himself needlessly. They had no need for meat. He had probably noticed it too. After all, Dimitri had watch Byleth working on fuming the extra.

  


Byleth tried to open his mouth to both compliment and admonish him, but Dimitri beat him to it.

“For you.”

Any words Byleth wanted to say died in his throat. There it was again, this spark in Dimitri blue eye. The professor still couldn’t identify what it meant, but it was something good. Something warm. An ember in the darkness.

“Thank you.” Byleth found himself incapable of saying something else.

### 

“You know, I still can’t understand what’s happening.” Sylvain started.

Once Dimitri had returned, the rest of the blue lions had gone back to the fire. Dedue had joined them again, once he had been sure his liege would not go back to the forest for a ridiculous reason. But the prince was simply watching Byleth, who had begun to skin the enormous bear. He had brought back an entire bear. Ridiculous.

Like the night before, and the night before, the young adults were trying to pierce the mystery of Dimitri’s hunting spree. Felix was sure that the boar was losing it and that battlefield kills were not enough for him. Mercedes was more optimistic, supposing that he was only trying to help in his own way. “Maybe he wanted more protein?” was Annette proposition. 

“What of it? The killing or the animals getting bigger and bigger?” Felix responded sarcastically.

“All of it! Why is he suddenly hunting? Is he trying to show off to the professor?”

“It’s true that the professor is usually the one hunting… maybe he is trying to soften his workload?” Mercedes suggested.

“I’m more concerned with the size of his prey… Felix is right, they are getting bigger and bigger.” Ingrid added.

“Maybe next he will bring back a demonic beast? That would make for an interesting plate.” Sylvain joked.

Around the fire, eyes widen in horror.

“Oh goddess, would Dimitri fight a demonic beast with his bare hand?” Annette questioned, slightly panicked.

“Relax, I’m sure he is not stupid enough to do that…”

“…”

Dedue didn’t believe his highness stupid enough. Still, he was not in the best state of mind at the moment… The Duscur man resolved himself to following his liege, if a new hunt was to take place. Better be safe.

Ashe, who had been looking at the bear, professor and Dimitri, finally went back to the conversation.

“Is he trying to bring the professor gifts?”

Silence.

“That’s a good one, Ashe! But maybe you should stick to tea, flowers, and books for your future presents.” Sylvain gently mocked.

Embarrassed, Ashe tried to justify his thoughts.

“Cats at the monastery would do it! Maybe he is like them? Not that his highness is a cat, or any sort of animal but…”

“He surely behaves like one.” Felix interrupted.

Sylvain, who was laughing, went abruptly silent.

“Oh … He is trying to bring gifts to the professor… Is he… is he trying to _seduce_ the professor?”

Dimitri's crush at the academy had been obvious. It was a poorly hidden secret that only Byleth had seemed blind to. The blue lions all remembered lovestruck glances across the classroom, blushes in the training hall at the sight of their professor in action, and tea parties from which he would come back smiling from ear to ear.

It was also why the loss of the professor had had such a devastating impact on Dimitri crumbling psyche.

Now that they were all reunited, they had hoped that Byleth presence would help him come back to them. But even the professor was no magical solution. Still, they had hope. Their teacher would not be giving up. They couldn’t either.

But it was kind of surprising that Dimitri first step toward his humanity would be to try to offer strange gifts to their professor… or maybe not that surprising. 

“Dimitri has terrible taste. First a dagger, now dead animals…” Sylvain was lamenting.

“You want to know the worst part? It’s kinda working.”

Away from them, Dimitri eye was locked on Byleth. The bear was skinned, and the professor had begun to extract the meat. As he was operating, and probably sensing the prince’s gaze on him, Byleth raised his head. Their eyes meet. Byleth smiled, the corner of his mouth pushed upward.

Sylvain groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Step 2: Bring your intended food


	3. Fighting

The return to the monastery was uneventful, if one excluded the three beasts in three days that the prince had brought to their professor.

More or less persuaded that Dimitri had indeed been bringing gifts to their professor, the former blue lion house was wondering what would come next. More gifts? Or something different? It was kind of silly, to pay so close attention to the strange courtship of Dimitri toward their dear professor. Foldan was still at war, and each of them had duty to attend to. But Dimitri was their friend, as well as Byleth, and they couldn’t help it.

Back at Garreg Mach, Dimitri was still avoiding everyone. He was hiding away in the chapel (Annette had checked, afraid that he had gone outside to hunt something bigger), and if they were new gifts, the blue lions hadn’t noticed. Or maybe their professor had finally warned Dimitri about bringing back bigger and bigger preys fought with his bare hands. It was kind of dangerous, and Byleth would surely prefer his former students alive and well.

An entire bear… he had fought an adult bear with nothing but his fists. What was he thinking? Surely the professor had put an end to this.

As things went, it was not long before they were back in the field. No camping this time, for the battlefield was close enough that it could be reached in the same day. The collective sigh of relief was unanimous. Byleth had raise an eyebrow but made no comment, blissfully obvious. Maybe his former students were simply tired and would rather sleep in a real bed?

The battle, as always, was still hard on them. They were at war. Killing was a necessary evil. Still, it was no less difficult to take a life. It was no less difficult to see Dimitri at his wildest.

Dimitri was fighting like a possessed man. He would slash, stab, crush, and destroy with the violence of a hundred men and the rage of a demon. The wildfire in his eye would run rampant, as well as his thoughts and words. It was hard to listen to his broken voice claiming broken beliefs. In those instants, Dimitri was no man, but a boar, a beast.

The rest of them usually stay cleared of him, allowing him space. Oh, Dedue was still watching his back, and Ashe kept an eye on him. Mercedes was always ready to provide him with a healing spell. Everyone was still perfectly aware of his presence. For he was still their prince, and he was still their friend. But for everybody's sake, no one stayed close.

Byleth was, again, the exception. When Dimitri’s speech became too frayed and his movements too erratic, the professor would rush to his side, and snap him back into action. Sometimes his mere presence would be enough to calm him a little. More often than not, it was an order that brought him back from the depth. Once that the full power of the beast had retreated, Byleth would nod, and return to another position, leaving Dimitri alone.

That was the usual pattern. But as the blue lions were learning, change was coming.

This battle had started like many others and had progressed as such. Dimitri was quickly left on his own, and his battle cries, nothing more than ferocious roars, resonated in the field. It was both the assurance that he was alive and fighting, and the cruel proof of his state.

The skirmish was taking longer than anticipated. For Dimitri, it was the riskiest. The longer fights went on, the higher the chance to lose himself even more. In those case, the professor would find him and stay with him for a little while. Today, it was not the case.

Dimitri himself went to find Byleth in the middle of battle. He was done with the foes on his side, and without waiting for further instructions, was rushing to the professor aid. Byleth himself was by no mean in danger. The bandits were numerous, but weak, and not one had landed a hit. Still, the former mercenary was taking his time, not risking anything. His blue lions needed his guidance, and he couldn’t afford to be hurt.

As his sword was clashing with that of the enemy, Byleth heard a war cry from his left. The next moment, the bandit he was battling was dead on the floor, a lance to the heart. Not losing a moment, Dimitri pushed forward, leaving Byleth behind him.

It was a deathly show Byleth couldn’t help but admire. It was a pain to his heart to see Dimitri in such a frenzy. But there was still something strangely beautiful in the display. Dimitri was a skilled lance user, and a powerful fighter. Uninhibited and unhindered, he was unstoppable. Distracted for a moment (what would his father think?), Byleth lost no more time following Dimitri in his fight. But he was fast, so fast, and for the rest of battle, Byleth couldn’t find a foe that Dimitri hadn’t striken down.

Byleth’s adversaries were the last of the enemies. With this problem dealt with, the former blue lions went back to the monastery. On the way, the professor was even more silent than usual. It was strange that Dimitri had come to him on his own. He hadn’t seemed too agitated. Byleth hadn’t felt the need to help him calm down a notch. Byleth himself had been in no danger, so there was no need to help. Plus, Dimitri hadn’t made a show of helping recently: he was fighting on his own, making use of the others' presence, as he liked to repeat. To use them until the flesh fall from their bone.

Maybe Dimitri had been looking for the next enemy to execute? Byleth frowned. He didn’t like the idea. But it could be the truth. Was Dimitri escalating, uncontrollable in his rage, searching for more and more corpses to add to his pile of offering? Was Byleth losing him?

Byleth decided. Next battle, he would try to keep a closer eye on Dimitri and try to avoid pushing him in too much killing.

### 

In the next battle, Byleth hadn’t been able to hit anyone, as they were all dead before he could approach. 

Dimitri had been… 

Remembering his previous resolve, Byleth had stayed close to Dimitri, to watch him. Dimitri had immediately noticed. And as a result? He had seemed even more determined to kill everyone before they could even near Byleth. Dimitri was not used to fighting with someone anymore. Maybe that was it? Forgetting that there was someone with him to face the brunt of the enemy and alleviate his burden? But the professor was unsure. The bloodlust hadn’t seemed too different from previous battles. But he hadn’t let a single kill for Byleth. As if Dimitri was always needing more and more. Or was it some sort of revenge for Byleth presence, feeling like a child under supervision?

Byleth was getting worried. Dimitri was throwing himself into battle. It was dangerous. He was taking unnecessary risks. Those battles were but skirmishes against thieves and bandits, not a fight against the Empire. What was he trying to achieve?

As Byleth had followed Dimitri in his killing spree, the professor had spent more time healing the prince than anything else. He had had no time for enemies (who were otherwise swiftly killed by Dimitri), and barely any time to strategize and direct the rest of the blue lions. This wouldn’t do. Why was Dimitri so determined to fight so many enemies? Did he really think his life of so little value? Couldn’t he see that his death would crush all the remaining hopes his friends had? That his death would devastate his friends? And devastate Byleth too?

Byleth didn’t want to lose anyone else to this war. Staying by Dimitri side hadn’t work? He would need a more aggressive approach.

### 

Byleth solution was simple: cut all enemies before Dimitri could.

As the blue lions were preparing for battle, Byleth had come to stand by Dimitri side. His presence had been noticed immediately. Usually, Byleth would have been ignored. Not today. Dimitri had raised his head from his lance to Byleth. The bloodthirsty look in his eye was back, like before any fight. But the spark of something warm was here too. So Dimitri wasn’t resentful like Byleth had hypothesized some days ago. He could even be… happy? Satisfied was more like it. But why? Their eyes were locked on one another. Sizing, evaluating. In the field, Dimitri would be an animal. Would Byleth follow? The prince appeared to be searching for something in Byleth gaze. After a moment, he nodded. Good. The predator was out to play.

Byleth was used to keeping a calm head. It was essential to stay alive on the battlefield: you couldn’t make a call if emotions were getting in your way. You need to stay level-headed, or you could get killed. The former mercenary never had any problem. Even as his emotions had started to alight, back in the monastery days, years of habits had been quick to put the mask back in place while in battle. It was a difficult path to thread, to both rely on your instinct and suppress your humanity. Almost like an animal of human intelligence. Or a machine maybe. A doll? Byleth wasn’t good with comparisons.

Dimitri clearly was a man of another caliber. On the battlefield, his emotions run rampant, both his fuel and his grief. He was feeling oh so much, pretending to have tossed all humanity aside. He probably believed it too. But Byleth knew better. The ghosts and the regrets, the voices…

But now wasn’t the time. Dimitri had stand up. Soon the battle would be upon them. Byleth had already given his instructions to the blue lions. It should be an easy battle to liberate a small town overrun by brigands. The professor should be able to concentrate on Dimitri.

Will he be able to calm him down? Or will he only exacerbate the problem? Regardless, Byleth had to try.

As Ashe spotted the first bandit, Byleth was already rushing ahead and leaving Dimitri behind. He couldn’t see his face of course, but was he angry? Surprised? But he had no time for speculation, as he was already facing his first enemy. Cut, parry, strike. Another one. It was a rush that reminded Byleth of his mercenary days. Back when he was the one following orders, focusing more on cutting the enemies in front of him and less on trying to assure everyone stayed alive. Byleth felt a pang of regret. Was he endangering his blue lions by trying to help Dimitri? No, they were capable. They had been for five years when he was sleeping. Still, the guilt remained. 

The battle was over in little time. As he had planned, when Byleth turned over to Dimitri, he couldn’t see a single drop of fresh blood on his person. His lance was clean of gore too. In his eye, the spark was still here. On his face, there was something like a smile, however demented and twisted it appeared. The corners of Byleth’s mouth twitched.

The voice of Mercedes interrupted them.

“Oh thank the goddess professor you are alright!”

Byleth turned to the woman. Dimitri slipped away.

“We lost sight of you for a moment, and we were worried. Especially when you were…”

Mercedes face was somber, her usual smile fading.

“You should know better professor. When we saw you rushing into fights… Dimitri is already… We cannot lose you too.”

Oh. Were the blue lions thinking he was following Dimitri in his frenzy? Truly it could seem like it. He needed to correct the assumption quickly.

“Do no worry Mercedes. I’m still myself. By killing all those bandits before Dimitri had the chance, I was attempting to…”

What was he attempting? To calm Dimitri bloodlust? To prevent him from getting too caught up in his kills? To spare him from endangering himself?

“...help.”

Mercedes looked Byleth in the eyes, before nodding like she understood.

“Don’t do it again please?”

Byleth nodded in return. If his former students were so anxious, it would do no good to pursue this venture. The professor would need to find another solution to prevent Dimitri from overdoing it.

### 

The rest of the blue lions didn’t know how to feel about the new changes on the battlefield.

The first time, when Dimitri had joined the professor fight on his own volition, they had hoped. Because he was clearly attempting to help, in his strange way. Facing the enemies with the professor and cutting down his foes. But as Felix had pointed out, the boar could have simply been done with his adversaries and looking for his next meal. Hope changed to fear. Was it possible? They though he was getting better, but were they losing him? The professor would know, and he would do something. He was the one who could help. And if nothing was done, they would think of something too!

Then the next time, Dimitri had fight Byleth’s battle. The professor sword had stayed clean of blood for the duration of the battle. It was at the same time impressive from the prince and incredibly dangerous. The blue lions knew Dimitri to be a greater fighter, but even for him it was beginning to be a little too much.

They had worried. Then Sylvain had pointed out that Dimitri was kind of showing off to the professor. Understanding had crossed the rank. Was it the next step of the strange courtship of Dimitri and Byleth? Demonstrating his abilities like an animal would do? Fighting and displaying his battle prowess? Showing he could protect the professor?

It was still stupid, but maybe they could understand the reasoning a little better.

But then, it was the professor who had fight Dimitri’s battle. And they were terrified. The professor had lost no time rushing into battle, cleaning the battlefield in swift strokes and quick cuts. His face was blank, no emotions in his eyes. It was no professor they were witnessing, but the famed Ashen Demon. They hadn’t known what to think. They had feared for the worst. Byleth had had a single focus of cutting down his foes that reminded them of Dimitri, when he was lost in battle. First, the blue lions were afraid of losing Dimitri. Would they lose the professor too? Thankfully, Mercedes had lost no time expressing her worries. Understanding had cross Byleth’s face, like he just realized what he had been doing. He had been quick to reassure his former students. It would not happen again.

They had no idea if Dimitri attempts at showing off had worked on Byleth, but the prince had been charmed. He had tried to smile! Like Byleth fighting for him and cutting down his preys was a great gift. For sure, the blue lions couldn’t understand.

Things went back to normal after that. Or… not really.

On his own volition, Dimitri was starting to get closer to Byleth in battle. He wasn’t stealing his kills or trying to single-handily defeat an army. It was more… subtle. The prince was defending Byleth back unprompted, slashing enemies that cut a little close. He was letting Byleth help, trusting the professor to be behind him in his assault.

They were fighting together. Dimitri was not alone on the battlefield anymore.

Maybe this courtship would do the both of them some good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Step 3: Show you can protect your intended


	4. Sleep

Byleth’s room at Garreg Mach had always been spare. Back in the academy days, there was only the furniture that had come with the space. A bed, a desk, a board, a wardrobe and cabinets. It was more than enough, for a man used to travel on the road as a mercenary. Later on, he had added books he had borrowed from the library. Books on lance techniques, strategy, warfare, demonic beasts etc… Byleth needed to teach himself before teaching his students. Even if he had been thrust upon the academy life with no warning or qualification, they deserved a good education.

Sothis had admonished him. “This place is so boring… You should make it livelier!” She had suggested some of the flowers he was growing, or maybe a painting. He could have gone to the merchant and buy a little decoration. Even a pretty sword would have been better than nothing! Instead, Byleth had gifted the flowers to his blue lions, and spend his money on presents for his students or in equipment for them to be better prepared in battle. He had no need for decoration. Sothis had sulk but understood.

There had been a bouquet once. Byleth hadn’t known from who it had come from. It was a pretty thing, made of violets, blue forget-me-not, purple and white baby’s breath, white anemone, white carnation, and white roses. He remembered them, because someone must have spent time to collect the flowers and arrange them. A blue ribbon was tying the thing together. They had been no sender. Had someone lost their gift? Byleth had picked up the bouquet from the floor in front of his door and had asked around. He had received many compliments, and some had even though the bouquet was for them. The professor hadn’t relent, searching for the mysterious proprietary. It would be a shame to let such a gift go to waste!

Byleth had gone to the blue lions’ classroom, where his students were discussing. All heads had turn to him, and the bouquet in his hand. Annette had let out a loud gasp.

“Those flowers are so pretty! Who has gifted them to you?”

Had Byleth not been so focused on the flowers and Annette face, he would have seen suspicious glances made toward Dimitri.

“I don’t think they are mine. I found them outside. Do you know who could have lost them?”

Perplexity was plain on the girl face. Still, she tried to help.

“Do you have a message to go with it? Or a name?”

Byleth shook his head. Annette threw a glare at Dimitri, as if accusing him. The prince’s ears had turned pink. Sylvain added fuel to the fire.

“Well, whoever made this bouquet, they are obviously in love. Do you know about flower language professor?”

“Not helping Sylvain.” Ingrid had accused.

Confusion had swept Byleth. Flower language? Like, how to take care of different flowers? Speaking their language? Or maybe it had to do with the initials of the flowers and making secret codes. That could be useful. But how to know in which order to read each flower? It was way easier to make them grow and to give them to students. They were pretty, and they made people happy. Like a spark of colour.

“M-Maybe they are for you professor?” suggested Dimitri, blushing.

Byleth took a second to think. He had asked nearly everyone, and nobody had been the sender or the recipient of the bouquet. And it’s true that it had been left in front of his door. What Byleth had assumed was a coincidence could have been a deliberate choice. But why not gives it in person? Byleth had no problem doing it, and he has seen other students do it to. Oh, but maybe they were shy?

“Oh, you are right. Thank you, Dimitri.”

Dimitri had nodded. His face had been very red. Was he uncomfortable with his professor receiving gifts? Or allergic maybe? He should ask the next time they were together for tea.

Byleth had went back to his room and put the bouquet in a vase. Sothis would have been pleased, finally there was some decoration! But he couldn’t hear Sothis anymore, and war was brewing. Less than a week later, the monastery had fall to the Empire. Five years had passed, and Byleth hadn’t been able to get the flowers back. They had probably been crushed in the invasion or swiped away by the wind. Flowers were fragile things. In any case, Byleth had no time for blossoms, and Sothis wasn’t there. The professor had reclaimed his old room, cleaned and dusted the shelves and the floor, and re-installed himself. It was still pretty spartan. The chair had been changed, as the old one was broken. Everything else was the same.

But now there were new additions to the room. On the floor rested a boar pelt, and on the bed an elk one. On the hanger was a bear coat. Well, it was more of a large pelt than a coat. Maybe Byleth could ask Mercedes to help him sew? It was still a bit too warm to use, but winter would be coming. And if they needed to travel to the cold of Faerghus, a fur coat would be a nice addition.

Right after Dimitri hunting spree some weeks prior, Byleth had taken the time to prepare the pelt of the various animals. He was no hunter by trade, but he had done a decent job. The pelts had been washed, brushed, dried and skinned to an appropriate result. And now they were displayed in Byleth’s room. Byleth had hesitated to offer them to others who might have a need for them. But there was plenty of blankets, and no one had asked for more. So Byleth had refused the covering and kept the pelts. It reminded him of his old bedroll, back with the mercenaries. It also reminded him of Dimitri, who had hunted the beasts for them. A similar kind of coat was hanging from his shoulder. Had he skinned it himself? There was so much that Byleth didn’t know about his students. Especially after five years.

But it was no time to dwell on the past. He needed to focus. As Byleth was readying himself for bed, there was a knock on the door. The professor frowned. A late visit? At this hour, no one was usually awake. Byleth himself was only up because he was finishing an urgent report he would present tomorrow. On rare occasion, he would find himself comforting Ashe, or discussing with Ingrid when sleep evaded her. It was no hardship to be there for them, his dear lions. Thinking that it was one of them seeking counsel or comfort, Byleth got up. Taking in hand the candlestick faintly illuminating the room, he went to the door. 

It was Dimitri.

At first, Byleth only blinked, his face carefully blank. Surprise had taken ahold of him for a moment. The small flame of the candle was illuminating the prince face, erasing any doubt of illusion or mirage. In his eye there was the spark. Dimitri hadn’t said a word. Byleth was simply grateful that he had knocked, instead of breaking the door. He was strong enough to do it. Not knowing what Dimitri wanted, Byleth opened the door wide, and step back to grant him entry. Would he stand at the door entrance, say his word and leave? Would he go inside? What could he be seeking at this hour?

Dimitri took a step forward. His eye went around the room, looking for potential dangers and traps. There was the sword of the creator on one of the cabinets, along with silver gauntlets. His dagger was along his clothes on the back of the chair. A knife was hidden under Byleth’s pillow, and another one in the wardrobe, but Dimitri couldn’t know it at first glance. But maybe he suspected. Still, Byleth had no plan to attack Dimitri.

The prince's gaze stopped on the pelts, and the spark in his eye shined. Or was it a trick of the low light? After some moments of careful calculation, Dimitri took another step. The door was still opened, and Dimitri made no move to close it. Byleth wouldn’t expect him to. It was his only escape route.

Byleth and Dimitri's eyes were locked. The professor didn’t know if it were a good thing. Looking past the spark in the blue eye, Byleth could see something haunted. Had Dimitri had a nightmare? It would probably not be the first time. But it would be the first time Dimitri had come to him. Byleth would be happy to stay in his presence if it could lend him comfort. To provide him shelter. 

In this instant between them formed some sort of fragile peace Byleth was afraid to break. But like he had always done in those situations, he would follow his instinct.

Byleth was the one to break eye contact. Turning his back on Dimitri (predator, his instincts were telling him, danger), the professor put down the candlestick on the nightstand with deliberately slow movements. The sound of metal on wood was brief. All was silent. Byleth slipped under the sheets of his bed, still not looking at Dimitri. It looked like the pelt would come in handy after all. The open door was letting inside the cold.

Once set, Byleth turned his eyes to Dimitri. He had not moved, observing Byleth, tense, ready to jump at the slightest of provocation. Byleth understood. Some mercenaries, back with his father's company, had had similar nights, when even the sounds of turning soldiers or brushing metal would be too much, enough to keep them awake. Byleth hoped Dimitri would find the peace of mind to get some sleep. Or that his presence would serve some purpose. Reassuring him that he was alive? That he was safe at the monastery?

Byleth could feel Dimitri gaze on him. He closed his eyes. For a tense moment, there was no sound. Then a step, a ruffling of clothes. Metal on wood again, as Dimitri was probably sitting down. Some adjustment. Silence.

Byleth looked at Dimitri. He was on the floor by the open door, his back to the wall. His lance was in his arms, but its tip was facing the ceiling. He was directly in front of him, at the bed feet. Their eyes were meeting once again. No aggression. Usual tenseness and grief. The haunting appeared to be a little better. Or maybe it was wishful thinking on Byleth part.

The former mercenary closed his eyes again. Dimitri gaze wasn’t leaving him, he could feel it. It might be difficult to sleep, with such intensity boring into him. But it was Dimitri. Even half-broken by rage and anguish, he was still someone Byleth trusted.

Sleep came to him. When he woke up, Dimitri wasn’t there.

### 

It repeated for four nights.

Byleth would get ready for sleep and wait. A knock. Byleth would open the door, and Dimitri would get inside. Then it was careful positioning. Gaze meeting. Open door. Trust. Sleep. Dimitri would be gone again by morning. It was a new routine that Byleth wouldn’t mind getting used too, if it meant that Dimitri would leave the chapel and stay by him. On the fifth night however, Byleth waited. And waited. Nothing. The sun had been down for hours, and the professor could reasonably assume that everyone was sleeping. It appeared that Dimitri hadn’t come tonight. So Byleth would go to him.

He took the bear coat with him. It was a bit chilly, especially in the open chapel, and Byleth was only wearing trousers and a shirt. He hesitated, looking at his weapons, before leaving without them. With Dimitri, he wouldn’t need them, and anyone foolish enough to attack the professor would receive a well-aimed fire to the face.

Byleth was silent as he was crossing the Monastery. After a few minutes, he was in view of the chapel. There was no one left here at night, and even during the days, many people avoided the place due to the presence of the beast prince. It was fortunate for Byleth: no one should disturb them. The professor crossed the bridge and slipped through the massive open door. Silent as he had been, he now wished for his presence to be known. Surprises would do Dimitri no good. His feet resonated in the decrepit church, echoing around. In the centre of the room, Dimitri was sitting. There he was, basked in the moonlight, among the debris still littering the floor. Even as his face and coat were caked with dirt, and his blond hair partly brown due to dried blood, there was an ethereal beauty to him. 

It may have been the vulnerability Byleth could detect. Tonight, Dimitri was bare. There was no armour of fury and rage. It was only the painful weariness of haunting voices, the ruining despair, the quiet sadness that would never go away. Under the faint light, Byleth could feel it as his own. He wasn’t superstitious, but had he believed in ghosts, he would have seen them here. What were they telling him, those dead mother and father and friend? What could he do to make the nightmares go away?

“Mother… Father…”

Getting closer, Byleth could hear the raw voice of Dimitri. How long had he been muttering broken pleas and promises? At this instant, Byleth felt powerless. Useless. What good could he do if he was not even able to comfort his prince? Words of reassurance were eluding him. He wasn’t good at this. His language was small gifts and token, council, protection, smiles. Talking had always been difficult. So, no talking.

Byleth went up to Dimitri, his pace calm and slow. The prince hadn’t move, gaze fixed on an invisible point in front of him. The professor sat down by his side. He couldn’t sense his warm in the cold chapel. They were too far away still.

At first, it was as if Dimitri hadn’t noticed him. He carried on with his litany, spilling the names of people Byleth hadn’t had the chance to meet, trying and failing to reach them. Byleth listened, feeling both intruding on something he wasn’t mean to see and sharing a moment. After a while, the flow of words ran out. Neither Dimitri nor Byleth had moved. The prince head turned to his former professor. In his eye, Byleth could see his tiredness. He was still so vulnerable. It was a rare sigh. Something precious. Worth protecting. Worth anything. More than ever, Byleth wanted to get Dimitri out of the darkness and into the light, where he belonged. Could Byleth keep the ghosts at bay? He could try to help.

So Byleth lied down to rest right where he was, curled into the bear pelt. Dimitri hadn’t moved, hadn’t even flinched, his eye the only thing moving and following Byleth movement. After a beat, Dimitri had lay down too. His eye was alert, and his shoulders a bit tense. He kept his back to the collapsed ceiling, and the lance in his arms. They were not touching; they weren’t even that close. But there was trust here. His gaze was fixed on Byleth right in front of him. 

The professor shut down his eyes and went to sleep.

### 

The next night, Dimitri was back in Byleth’s room, as if nothing had happened. Or... not exactly. From what Byleth could hear, there had been no more nightmares of this night intensity. When Dimitri had come knocking on the door again, Byleth had been relieved. And a bit disappointed. He would have liked to rest with Dimitri on his side again. Now in his room, it wasn’t the same thing. More comfortable for his neck, yes, but he couldn’t see Dimitri properly. But he wouldn’t wish Dimitri torment for anything. Three more nights passed of the same routine. It was less tense than before, a little more natural. On the third night, Dimitri had closed the door behind him. Byleth had no doubt that he could break it clean of the hinges, but it was the gesture that made a small smile appeared on his face. Dimitri’s eye had sparked once again.

Getting ready for bed, Byleth was awaiting his nightly visitor. And there it was, a knock. Byleth opened the door and let Dimitri inside to do as he pleased. Like clockwork, the professor went to the bed, tucking in the sheet and the pelt. Comfortable, he looked at Dimitri, and frowned.

The prince was still in the middle of the room, making no movement to sit down like usual. Still as a statue, he was fixating on Byleth. Their eyes meet. Dimitri appeared… unsure. Byleth tried to show reassurance. Acceptance. It’s okay. What could have pushed him back? Was another nightmare coming?

At last, slowly, Dimitri began to move. With a hand, he closed the door. Byleth could see his shoulders visibly tense, before relaxing once more. Then, he took a step forward. And another. Near the nightstand where the candlestick was placed on the table, he let down his lance. The action seemed to take real effort, like letting go of a limb. Dimitri’s fingers were crossing and uncrossing on the lance, hesitant to let go. Byleth made no movement to help or to disturb. Finally, there was the clank of metal on wood. Dimitri had let go.

Byleth was on his side, face turned toward the nightstand and Dimitri. He was waiting for what would come next. He had no idea of what Dimitri would do. The prince fixed Byleth once more. And then he climbed into bed too. 

Dimitri stayed on the covers, and not inside like Byleth had done. But he was there, so close. Both the prince and the professor were on their side, face to face. Only their knees were touching, which was an admirable effort for two grown men in a bed made for only one. Byleth still hadn’t move, like any action would break the charm and make Dimitri fly to the door.

They stared at each other for a little while. Analysing, taking in, assessing. Once again, Byleth relented, and closed his eyes. He didn’t know if Dimitri had followed.

### 

Like many previous mornings, Dedue went to the chapel to make sure that his highness was alright. Or as alright as he could get. Sleep was often eluding the prince, when the nightmares were getting too strong or vivid. Dedue never stayed, for he knew it wouldn’t help. Still, for his peace of mind, he liked to know that the prince was relatively safe in the chapel. Dedue would leave food that would sometimes go untouched, but those days his highness was getting better at eating.

This particular morning, there was no trace of his highness. Carefully, Dedue had search for him in the chapel, with no success. The prince had disappeared. Not wasting anymore time, Dedue made haste toward the professor room. He would need to be informed, and a plan of action decided. Instead of knocking directly, Dedue had taken a look from the window. It was an invasion of privacy, but the shield wanted to know if the professor was already awake. He appeared still asleep. However, it also appeared that Dedue didn't need to worry. The prince was on the professor bed, resting. Dedue had had no time to see if he was truly dozing or simply relaxing, but it didn’t matter.

Dedue left the plate of food in front of the door, before leaving for the council to take place. It would do the both of them some good to sleep in. Dedue could always bring the professor notes of the important discussions.

Dedue was the last person to enter the strategy room. There was a free seat for the teacher, but he wouldn’t use it yet.

“How is his highness doing today?” gently asked Ashe. The blue lions knew of his habit.

“Good.”

“Oh, is that a smile? What happened?” Annette teased.

Dedue stayed silent. It was not his place to tell.

“The professor will not be coming today, as he appeared to still be sleeping and in need of rest.”

“Oh that’s good. The professor is working too much!” Mercedes affirmed.

“You went to his room? Why?” Ingrid interrogated.

Dedue didn’t respond.

“You are avoiding the question. What happened with the boar?” Felix remarked.

“Were you searching for the prince before coming to the professor room?” Sylvain pointed out.

Dedue's silence was taken as confirmation.

“Ok so you went to see Dimitri before going to the professor. What could he have been doing… or not doing?”

“…”

“Not doing. Did he disappear?” 

“Dimitri disappeared?!”

If they had a demonic beast for dinner, Annette would be pissed. She knew she should have seen with the professor that this hunting habit was put to rest.

“No one disappeared.” Dedue affirmed.

“And you know this because…?”

“…”

“Ah! You went to the professor and met Dimitri in passing!”

Dedue could throw them a bone.

“Not quite.”

“You went to the professor and… found Dimitri?”

A nod. Sylvain was laughing. 

“Dimitri and the professor are sleeping together ~! ”

Ingrid hit him. 

Gilbert sighed, suffering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Step 4: Share your den. Sleep together.


	5. Grooming

Sleeping together, in the loosest sense, was kind of nice. But Byleth was pretty sure that it wasn’t what most people would have in mind. Normal people were like Sylvain. Thinking about a nice morning, they would imagine sharing a kiss, laughing together, teasing each other about the day to come. Having sex maybe. Or maybe it was Jeralt’s love novels.

Byleth and Dimitri mornings were nothing like it. The professor would wake up. Dimitri, still in armour, would stare. Byleth would stare too. Then they would move, slowly. Dimitri first, getting up, picking up his lance, and standing in a corner of the room. Byleth would follow but leave his weapons where they were. He would open the door, take the food brought by Dedue (that was now containing two portions), and sit on the bed to eat. Dimitri would take the other plate and eat too. That was good.

They wouldn’t ceased to stare at each other.

Dimitri would wait for Byleth to finish his plate. Dimitri was always eating too fast. Byleth was deliberately taking his time. Once they were both finished, Dimitri would nod, and leave the room. He usually went back to the chapel, while Byleth would go on with his day. But it was nice to know that Dimitri was sleeping. That he was getting a little better. That he was opening up, letting his guard down. Byleth didn’t care that he had less room to move.

Sleeping together was nice. But there was a major downside. Dimitri was tracking grime everywhere. Nearly each time after Byleth had returned to his room, but before Dimitri arrival, the professor would take some time to try and brush the sheet and pelt, with mid-success. There was a spot of blood that wouldn’t go away, even after Byleth had tried to wash it with water and soap. There was also mud on the carpet. Byleth had lived a mercenary life, but even then, the soldiers for hire had known basic hygiene. Dimitri was like an overgrown dog who spent too much time outside.

So Byleth was thinking: how to get him clean? The professor hadn’t been the first to try. Both Ashe, Annette and Mercedes had tried to suggest a bath. When Dedue had returned, he had broached the subject too. They were meet with grunts. Dimitri hair had remained dirty, as well as his armour and clothes. It couldn’t possibly be comfortable.

Byleth thought that Dimitri didn’t feel safe enough to take of the armour, and to take the time to lower his guard. It was understandable. Instinct. Still, Byleth would need to work around it. He wanted Dimitri to get better. And he wanted Dimitri to get clean.

Thinking of a plan of action, Byleth had wandered into Sylvain and Felix talking to each other. Hm. They were intelligent. Maybe they would have a suggestion. The pair had been mildly surprised to see their former professor walking toward them with an intense look of concentration on his face. He planted himself in front of them, silent, still searching for his words.

“What can we do for you professor?”

The professor was frowning, frustrated that sentences were falling him. It was something serious.

“Was it something to do with Dimitri? Relationship trouble maybe?” Sylvain teased.

Byleth nodded.

“Problem in bed.”

The two friends’ eyes went wide.

“I don’t want to know, I’m out.”

“Felix Hugo Fraldarius you are staying here with me or so help me goddess!” Sylvain hissed. The professor was still trying to express himself.

“He is … dirty.”

“…Okay so maybe it’s too much information even for me.”

“He’s getting dirt everywhere. Like a dog.”

Felix snorted. Sylvain visibly relaxed.

“Okay so you finally had enough of his highness hygiene. What does it have to do with us?”

“Do you know how to clean him?”

“Mmm… Even as a child, he had notoriously been difficult with baths. Now that he is in this state… Maybe you can try to coerce him into the river?” Sylvain suggested.

“Or push him down that would work too.” Felix added.

Byleth had nodded and uttered his thanks before leaving as quickly as he had come. Maybe he should try to listen to his former students’ propositions. Resolute, Byleth had then track down the blue lions all over the monastery.

“You can make the bathroom warm and comfortable?” Annette suggested.

“Try to use positive reinforcement? Something like, we take a bath and then we can do something fun, like eating.” Ingrid had proposed.

“Water faucets in the bathhouse are quite loud. Maybe the sound is bothering him? You could try to run a bath for him beforehand!” Had been Mercedes suggestion.

“Maybe he kind of forgot? You could coach him through the step…” Ashe offered.

“Wash him in part. Cover the part not currently being washed.” Dedue had hypothesized.

It was good suggestions. But Byleth knew that Dimitri wouldn’t even take off the armour. Their proposition wouldn’t work in this case. Or maybe Dedue’s one could. Byleth could convince Dimitri to take of his forearm protector and wash his arm with a cloth. Not the most practical, but it was that or nothing. As Byleth was pondering the benefit of forcing Dimitri out of his armour, a familiar voice interrupted his thought.

“Professor! We are back!”

It was Flayn and Seteth. The two siblings had been out of the monastery, following a lead on Rhea whereabout. Judging by Seteth face, it had been infructuous. Still, the two of them were back.

“Professor, I have so much to tell you about! But first, I’m absolutely famished. Would you care to accompany me fishing? I’m craving some of those queen loaches you can find in the pond!”

Byleth doubt that Flayn was as hungry as she suggested. But if she wanted to fish with him, Byleth would oblige. Fishing would clear his head. Maybe he would think of a solution to clean Dimitri efficiently.

A few minutes later, and they were both sitting on the side of the pond, fishing line drawn in the calm water. Flayn was quietly humming to herself. Byleth was staring. Maybe he could push Dimitri in the water…

“So, let me tell you all about our travel! As you know it, we journeyed to Lake Teutates, as…”

Any day, Byleth would have been happy to listen to the girl, but today he was tuning it out. His mind kept searching for a way to get Dimitri clean. Cleaner. Cleanish. No mud in the bed. It was a frustrating problem, to which a solution had yet to be found in the months since their class reunion.

“Are you not feeling well, professor?”

Byleth shook his head.

“I’m fine.”

“What could possibility be troubling you then?”

Byleth felt a pang of guilt. Flayn was the one in need of distraction and attention. Coming up empty-handed once again in their search of Rhea had probably been a let-down. But maybe he could ask her about his problem. She also had been one of his students. And it would technically be a distraction from the war and Rhea’s search.

“Dimitri is getting dirt in our bed.”

“Oh my! I do not know what to say about this new development. Sharing a bed is… But I guess congratulations are in order for the two of you!”

Yes, congratulations were good. Dimitri was finally getting some sleep.

“And you say he is… getting dirt in your bed?”

“Dirt, blood, grime, mud, smudge, filfth.”

Flayn was visibly paling.

“This is quite the predicament. Is he still refusing any attempt at cleaning then?”

Byleth nodded.

“Well, I am no expert, but from what I have read…”

Several things happened simultaneously. 

Flayn had let down her fishing pole, to better focus on her conversation with the professor. She was thinking of a way to aid her teacher with his trouble and was distracted. As such, she hadn’t heard someone coming behind the two of them. It must also be said that this person was quite discreet, for it was Dimitri coming toward the professor. Byleth himself had barely heard him coming and had only turned his head. It was still the middle of the day. Did something happen to Dimitri? There was no new blood or grime (and Byleth was getting quite familiar with it). The prince had advanced until he was just behind the two fishers.

As a result, when Flayn had turned toward Byleth, she had been quite surprised to see Dimitri bloodstained armour. She was so startled that she reacted on instinct. A brilliant light illuminated the pier, Byleth and Dimitri. The next second, a loud splash was heard. The prince was in the pond.

Byleth cocked his head. Well, it was water. And Dimitri would probably be cleaner.

“Thank you Flayn.”

Flayn looked mortified, spewing apologies and asking for forgiveness.

### 

The pond accident had been a mid-success. Once Dimitri had been out of the water (he looked like an angry cat), he had stormed out back to the chapel. Byleth had followed him and provided a towel to at least dry his hair. Dimitri had glared at the cloth like it had offended him. After having stared at each other for the better part of five minutes, Dimitri had grudgingly taken the towel from Byleth and put it on his head. Well it was progress.

Flayn had made her escape quickly before the lord was out and had encounter the rest of the blue lions going to lunch. She was so embarrassed she nearly ran into Ashe. Seeing her so distressed, her former classmates had feared for the worst, before getting the story out of her. Then, amusement had been plain on their faces. “I know pushing him in the water was the best solution.” Felix claimed. Flayn was still so ashamed to have teleport the prince in the water by accident. To comfort her, the blue lions began to inform her of their professor and Dimitri latest eccentricities.  


When the professor arrived to lunch some time later, Flayn avoided looking in his eyes.

Then during the following council, Seteth had informed them of a sighting of demonic beasts nearby. Byleth had agreed to investigate, and to take care of the problem. Annette had been looking strange at the announcement. Was she afraid of them? It hadn’t affected her that much before. Byleth should talk to her before they left.

The actual fight with the demonic beasts had gone without an inch. There were four, all big and menacing, but by now Byleth’s students knew what to expected. They charged on, quickly downing one before focusing on the next beast. As they were ready to finish the last creature, Byleth had spotted Ingrid a little too close to the demonic beast’s claws. Rushing to her aid and intended on felling the creature before it could touch his blue lions, the former mercenary had cut its arm in one clean cut. As a result, however, Byleth hadn’t been able to escape the spray of dark blood.

Looking at himself, Byleth was drenched in monster gore from head to toe. How troublesome. But they had passed by a river on the way. The professor would be able to clean himself in it. Surely his students would agree to set camp near the running water. They still had a bit of a trek back to the monastery, and it would be better for everyone if Byleth was not smelling like dead monster.

The blue lions agreed. And so, they departed for the river. Conversations in the group were light, and nobody had been seriously injured. Small cuts and bruises that would heal naturally, or that Mercedes had already tend to. Dimitri had suffered no injuries. Since he had began fighting side by side with Byleth, he was getting better at avoiding getting hurt. Good.

As the sun was beginning to set, the group arrived in view of the river. As usual, the blue lions separated, each one starting on his camp duty. They were eyeing Dimitri suspiciously. Would he try to hunt again? At least they would be no demonic beast, they had taken care of that. 

It didn’t look like it. Dimitri was staring at Byleth, who had deposed his weapons, and would be going down the river to get clean. Byleth meet his eye and saw no reason to worry. The bloodlust had subdued after the fight, and there was no acute sadness or grief. After those few seconds of eye contact, Byleth turned around and made his path toward the river. Behind him, he could hear footsteps. Dimitri was following.

Near the river, Byleth found a rock he could use to leave his clothes the time of a quick bath. Losing no time, the professor stripped. Once naked, he advanced into the chilly water. It was quite cold, but Byleth didn’t have the luxury of being picky. In quick steps, he was in the water up to the waist. Going no further, Byleth started to scrub himself.

He heard the water splashing behind him. Turning around, it was Dimitri. Still in full armour, he had at least let go of the lance, that Byleth could see resting against a tree, and of the cloak too. The professor couldn’t see anyone else. They didn’t want to join? Byleth had seen some blood on Sylvain’s armour, and dirt on Ashe from the time he had been forced to roll on the floor to avoid being hit. Maybe they were waiting for their professor to finish first. Or for the hot water back at Garreg Mach tomorrow. 

But even if he was in the water, Dimitri made no move to clean himself. His hair was still a mess (a quick dip in the pond hadn’t really helped), and blood was incrusted so deep in the breastplate Byleth wasn’t sure it would even go off. And it wasn’t even accounting for the state of his clothes under the protective covering. Byleth didn’t even know the last time Dimitri had taken of his armour.

One thing at the time. Dimitri had stopped advancing a meter away from Byleth. Carefully, the professor took a step in his direction, taking great care of telegraphing his moves and showing his empty hands. Dimitri looked at his palms, then his torso still covered in some blood, before stopping on his eyes once again. No aggression. No hidden motive.

Byleth got closer. He brought his hand to Dimitri breastplate, and touched the cold and sticky metal. Dimitri stayed still. The professor slowly started to wash his armour. His eyes weren’t leaving Dimitri’s. Around them, the water was getting bloodier and darker, before the river stream carried the dirt away. Byleth started with the breastplate, before continuing with his arms one after the other. He was tempted to take care of the legs too but was afraid the sudden show of movement would make Dimitri flee. The river stream will have to do. No back washing either.

Once the armour was cleaner, Byleth raised his hands, until he was levelled with the prince’s hair. He waited. Dimitri made a small movement toward the professor palms, like giving permission. Byleth wasted no time to start scrubbing, with as much care as he was capable of. But his fingers were getting tangled in old grime and knots. Still, Dimitri didn’t complain, and made no move. The only sound was the running river.

The professor tried to be as quick as possible, even if he would have like to spend more time like this. Byleth didn’t want to cause Dimitri anymore distress. Dimitri was trusting him to help him, so helping him Byleth would do.

Byleth was done, and so he took a step back, to allow Dimitri the space to leave. But Dimitri surprised him by taking a step forward too. Like Byleth had done, he put his hands in front of him, until his palms were resting on Byleth’s hair. The professor was frozen in place, not having anticipated the action. One of Dimitri hand cupped water from the river, and brought it to Byleth scalp, before carding through the strands. It was a bit awkward, between the prince’s gauntlets, the freezing water, and clumsiness. Still, Byleth knew that Dimitri was employing great care. There had been little blood in Byleth hair, and it could have waited until they were back at the Monastery. But the professor was glad for this opportunity.

Dimitri’s eye was alternating between Byleth face and his hair. The professor could feel the prince’s hands on his head, touching and scrubbing. No one had washed his hair for him since he was a child. It was a foreign feeling, but not necessarily unpleasant. Then Dimitri’s fingers were brushing his neck, and the prince went very still. Byleth’s eyes locked with his. Looking into the blue iris, the professor saw fear. Byleth put his hand on that of Dimitri, still resting on his neck. Reassuring. He had nothing to fear. Byleth wouldn’t be hurt.

The fear in Dimitri eye withdrew. 

For a moment they stayed like this, until the cold water was making Byleth shiver. Dimitri noticed, and pulled back. His hand left Byleth’s and went back to Dimitri side. Not losing any time, he turned tail and headed to the shore. Byleth saw him take the lance but dropping his cloak next to the professor’s clothes. Probably sensing his eyes, Dimitri nodded once, and returned to camp.

Regaining his senses, Byleth left the river. So enthralled by Dimitri, he hadn’t even cleaned his clothes yet. Putting on his undergarment that were spared of blood, Byleth took hold of Dimitri pelt. The cloak was cleaner that Byleth would have suspect, and so he draped it on his shoulders while working on scrubbing off the blood on his clothing. It was warm.

### 

Back at camp, the blue lions had been surprised to see their prince looking cleaner. Felix asked if he had pushed him in the river again.

“You are a magician, professor! He could almost pass off for a normal human being.” Sylvain joked.

Still, all of them were smiling a little, so Byleth knew that it was in good faith. The professor had noticed their eyes shining with hope each time Dimitri was getting a little more human. They had been affected too by their prince misfortune, and they were all happy to see him get better. 

The next day, they were back to Garreg mach. Many of the blue lions had taken the opportunity to visit the sauna and clean themselves for real. Byleth had to admit that it would probably be more comfortable than a chilly river. The professor hesitated to join but saw no need. He was clean.

Some days later however, and after a particularly rough training session with both Ingrid, Sylvain and Felix, Byleth could see the merits of a hot water bath. Directly after training, the professor had assisted in moving and clearing some of the still abandoned part of the monastery. Why clean himself when he was going to sweat again anyway? Byleth had planned on visiting the sauna at the end of the day. But he was so preoccupied by his work, he hadn’t seen time pass and the sun set down.

When Byleth had exit the building, it was pitch black outside. Oh well, the baths would be working anyway. The professor just hoped that Dimitri wasn’t in his room yet. Crossing Garreg Mach, he had had his response, when he saw the prince walking toward the dormitory. Dimitri had saw him too, and he changed course to meet with Byleth. Once that they were but a meter away, they stopped abruptly. Dimitri didn’t say anything, nor did Byleth. Finally, after a beat, the professor spoke.

“I’m going to take a bath.”

There. Dimitri could wait for him in his room or go back to the chapel. Maybe come back later. The thing is, they haven’t really discussed their arrangement, and so nothing was really planned between the two. But perhaps that was best for the prince. He could come and go as he pleased. He wasn’t trapped.

Byleth didn’t wait and went to the stairs leading to the sauna. No footsteps followed. Byleth was a bit disappointed. He had hope that maybe Dimitri would follow him, like he had done in the river some days prior. But the professor wouldn’t force him to do anything.

Byleth had to confess a weakness for the monastery sauna. Before coming here, the former mercenary had had little occasions for luxuries such a bath or warm water. On the road, cold water was better than staying drenched in grime, and so Byleth had make do like everyone else. But at Garreg Mach, he could take the time to relax sore muscles in a hot bath, making use of the natural springs under Garreg Mach. It was nice. Even now in the middle of the night, the water of the sauna was naturally hot, without the need for boiling water. Byleth could just take of his clothes, grab a towel, and dip in. That was the plan.

Byleth had just taken off his clothes and wrapped a towel around himself when he heard the sound of someone else coming in. So he will not be alone. Had Dimitri decided to follow him? Or was it someone else? Probably not. At this hour Byleth and Dimitri were probably the only one awake. Seteth maybe if he had paperwork.

The blond mane and black armour proved Byleth right. Dimitri closed the door behind him (he was getting better at this) and went up to Byleth. In his eye was a question that his mouth didn’t want to let out. He even appeared a bit frustrated. The corners of Byleth mouth went up.

“Would you like to join?”

Dimitri nodded.

In the changing room, cautiously, the prince let down his lance, and unclasped both cloak and pelt. At this point, he stopped, unsure. This was the turning-pointing, Byleth knew. Would Dimitri allow himself to trust Byleth? Or would it be too much for tonight? Either way, the professor would understand.

“Do you want me to help?”

“…Yes.”

Carefully, Byleth started to remove Dimitri armour. He began slowly, by taking off the protections on his legs. Then, he gazed into the prince eye, checking to see if it was ok. Every time, Dimitri nodded. The protections on his arms were next. Then the breastplate, and the rest of the armour. The prince was standing in only his trousers, a jacket and a shirt. They were absolutely filthy, their original colours lost in profit of the dirty brown of dried blood. Byleth hands were gentle, as he opened the jacket and shed the tunic. The shirt was next, and finally the trousers and undergarments.

Dimitri skin was a tale of the horrors he must have endured. All over his body, scars of all kind jagged the skin, old bruises lingering, new one that had started to fade, discoloured patches, broken bones that hadn’t set right and that Byleth could see pointing under the skin.

Byleth own body was probably similar. Crossed by old cuts and ugly scars. Could Dimitri see the stories behind them, like Byleth could guess the prince’s?

The professor extended his hand and lightly took hold of Dimitri’s. His gaze not leaving the prince, he began stepping back, toward the water. Dimitri could easily break free if he didn’t want to follow. But he didn’t let go, and his steps echoed that of Byleth. The professor touched the water and started to immerse himself. A moment later, it was Dimitri turn. Cautiously, almost like a dance, they advanced, until the water was lapping at their midriff.

The air was charged with vulnerability and tension. Byleth let some time pass, to allow Dimitri a moment to process. Their hands were still clasped together, and the professor tightened his hold briefly like a reassurance. After a few seconds, Dimitri reciprocated.

Slow and steady, Byleth cleaned the prince. Like he had done with the armour, he started with his hands, going up along his arms. Left, then right. At the same time, the professor was infusing healing magic in his palms, hoping to sooth old wounds. Then it was his torso, using all the care in the world when encountering bruises that must still hurt. Byleth healed them too. A hiss escaped Dimitri when the professor took care of a rib that must have been broken and never set right. Byleth worked on his legs next, after Dimitri had sat on the side of the pool. 

Once he was done, it was Byleth turn to hesitate. The question he wanted to ask was on the tip of his tongue. Dimitri answered for him, by presenting his open back. Byleth suddenly felt incredibly honoured. Carefully, he applied his hand on the prince upper back. Dimitri had jumped, a reflex he couldn’t suppress, before relaxing slightly. Byleth began to work, slowly getting rid of old blood, soothing scars, and massaging knots on stressed shoulders. From neck to lower back, Byleth took his time, trying to be as consistent and gentle as possible as to not surprise Dimitri.

“Turn around.” Byleth asked in a soft voice.

Dimitri complied. His gaze bored into the professor. The spark was here in his blue eye, this emotion Byleth couldn’t identify. But there was something tender too. Peaceful. Without breaking contact, Byleth hands went to Dimitri hair like he had done in the river. And once again, the professor took the time to rinse and clean the blond strands.

The eyepatch was still dirty.

“Can I?”

Dimitri nodded. Byleth hand went behind Dimitri head, and with care, undid the knot. The eyepatch slipped free, to reveal an ugly scar and an eyelid closing on nothing: the eye himself was gone. Byleth finger traced the outline of the orbit, infusing healing magic once more, trying to comfort and alleviate a pain long passed but not gone. The professor washed Dimitri face too.

This time, Byleth was done for good. His hands left the prince, suddenly unsure as to where to put them. The professor looked at Dimitri and smiled when seeing his expression.

“Thank you.”

### 

The next day, the blue lions had been quite shocked to see their prince all clean and ready. His armour was the same, but it had been scrubbed and was nearly shining. From what they could see, he had also changed the clothes he was wearing, if the smell was any indication. But most shockingly, his hair was clean too. He had a little tie to try and push the hair out of his face!

For the first time since their reunion, Dimitri looked more human than beast.

“Professor, you truly are a miracle worker!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Step 5: Groom each other.


	6. Touch

From this moment on, Dimitri became more relaxed. The others blue lions wouldn’t share Byleth opinion: the prince guard was still up with nearly everyone but Byleth. And only when it was just the two of them. In close quarter. Still progress. But with Byleth alone? The professor could see visible changes. Physical changes. It was like seeing a flower in bloom. Dimitri was less hunched, less tense. His eye would shine a little brighter, his muscles relaxing.

At night, he was actually sleeping. Byleth didn’t catch him in the act, but he knew: the dark circle under his eyes were getting better. It was a shame Byleth hadn’t been able to see his sleeping face yet. Every time he had woke up, Dimitri had been awake. 

In the morning, the prince would often stare at Byleth, watching his movements as he woke up. He had probably watched him sleep too. What was he thinking about? Vulnerability? Dark thoughts? Companionship?

In the middle of the night, Dimitri would be awake too, when his nightmares would wake Byleth up. Sometimes, he was trashing around, his hands going to his face, holding his ears or ripping his hair. Byleth would take hold of his palms, and murmurs reassurance and nonsense to help calm him down. Sometimes, Byleth would open his eyes to the light of the moon and Dimitri tears running along his cheek. The prince would stay silent, irresponsive. Byleth would take hold of one of his hand, squeezing it tight. After a while, he would get one in return.

Some nights the ghosts would go away. Others, Byleth would stay awake with the prince, not quite holding Dimitri, and not quite letting him go.

Byleth himself hadn’t had a nightmare in ages. When the memories were getting too much, he wouldn’t sleep at all. In those rare nights, Dimitri wouldn’t sleep too. Still not quite touching, except for a leg or an arm due to the tightness of the bed. This point of contact was a lifeline that Byleth would focus on to avoid drifting away. Away, to memories of his father (it was only some months prior for him, not a year, not five years.). To memories of the young students he had lost, hadn’t see grow in those years he was gone. To memories of Sothis, still silent. Dimitri stare, and the warmness he could feel, would anchor him to reality.

Dimitri was getting better. And maybe Byleth was getting better too.

Life carried on, and change was coming. They had meet up with Lord Rodrigue in Ailell, the first step of many to reconquer Faerghus. Byleth remembered the man from back at the academy. Felix’s father, current duke Fraldarius. A strong supporter of Dimitri, due to his close friendship with the previous king. The man had thanked Byleth for having stayed at Dimitri side.

Dimitri had received his family relic. Areadbhar. At night, the lance of house Blaiddyd was staying with the sword of the creator on the side of the bed. It was pulsating with life, like a living, distorted creature trying to break free. Byleth hated it, like all relics. They were making his skin crawl. Touching them would make him nauseous. It was almost as if he could hear a voice screaming in his head. Byleth would have like to ask Sothis about it. Alas, he was alone. 

Not alone. Dimitri was in Byleth room every night. Still, it didn’t mean that all nights were good. On a particular day, long before dawn, Byleth had come awake to the sound of Dimitri cries. It was a horrifying noise, like a wounded animal. Quick from years on the road as a mercenary, Byleth’s eyes had snapped opened. Dimitri wasn’t on the bed. He was curled in a corner, shaking like a leaf. Immediately, the professor had stood up, intended on joining the prince on the floor. Then, at the last moment, he had remembered to be slow and gentle. Dimitri was getting better at accepting his presence, but he would still tense, on the verge of lashing out at surprise movements.

Byleth had hold the prince hand, hoping it would help, like usual. He could feel the tremors of his body, and hear the broken sobs escaping Dimitri mouth. The professor had squeezed his hands, his thumb running soothing circles Dimitri couldn’t feel with his armour. He waited for Dimitri to respond. But after long minutes, it appeared that it hadn’t worked.

So Byleth got closer and put his arms around Dimitri shoulders. It was hard to embrace him with his protective gear still in place (quite literally). Byleth could only see Dimitri hair, but he could feel him tremble against him. The arms that had been limp at Dimitri side went to Byleth back and gripped him tightly. It was not enough to hurt but bordering on forceful. The professor couldn’t have care less.  
Fresh sobs escaped Dimitri, with new tears that Byleth could feel on his torso. The professor had began brushing his hair gently, humming along. Progressively, Byleth felt Dimitri calming down. First the trembling had reduced, then stopped all together. The cries had broken down to silent teardrops. The powerful grasp on Byleth shirt hadn’t relent, however. The professor had kept on carding his fingers through Dimitri hair, until he realised that Dimitri had fell asleep. This had made him pause, before picking up. Even in his dreams, Dimitri could use all the comfort he could get.

In the morning, Byleth felt Dimitri awoke when a sudden gasp was heard in the room. The prince grasp had tightened even more, as if afraid to drop or losing balance. Like he hadn’t expected to fall asleep. Then the hands had relaxed, before letting go. Byleth had followed and was able to meet the prince eye. For a blissful moment, he appeared grateful. Then, the spark had dimmed, and his eyes had hardened. Ah, the sun was up. Dimitri had fled through the door without eating.

The following night, Byleth had been afraid Dimitri wouldn’t show up. The prince was guarding his heart ferociously. During the day, he was still brooding, both cynical and ruthless in his words and actions. Focused only in his vengeance, his burning hatred for Edelgard, his furious desire to appease the dead. He couldn’t care less about friends, family or honour. His own disregard for his well-being was getting better, thanks in part to Byleth. The professor liked to think that the voices were getting quieter too.

At night, with Byleth, Dimitri shed some of his armour. They didn’t talk, like putting words on their actions would break this fragile hope. But it wasn’t needed. Once morning come, Dimitri could put on the walls he had erected to protect himself. At twilight, Byleth would open his door. To speak of it, to change things irremediably, would have been caging him. The professor would indulge Dimitri a little longer. He had started to show some trust in Byleth, but was the vulnerability of sleep too much? The moment had been an accident, not freely given.

It took a little longer, but a knock relieved Byleth of the doubts that had grown in his mind. Dimitri stepped inside. They went to bed, face to face, knees touching. Byleth was in his sleepwear, the prince in his armour. The professor closed his eyes like usual, waiting for sleep, feeling Dimitri gaze on him. He heard a loud inhale of breath, and a soft command.

“Turn around.” An echo of Byleth demand back in the bathhouse.

Byleth trusted Dimitri. He complied. The professor changed side, bumping into the prince a little due to the closeness. Byleth was now facing the wall, presenting his back to Dimitri. He couldn’t see him anymore, but he could feel his presence. 

Arms in armour went around him, encircling him like both a level of trap and protection. Byleth felt Dimitri armour on his back, and Dimitri breath on his neck. Where they had only been empty air before, Byleth now sensed the hardness of the prince body, guarded in protective gear.

An involuntary gasp escaped the professor. Dimitri stilled, and Byleth felt the prince arms retreating. Quick as a snake, one of the former mercenary hand went to Dimitri’s, grasping it.

“It’s ok.”

Dimitri relaxed. Byleth didn’t let go of the hand he was holding. No nightmares came to disturb them this night.

### 

This new development carried on for some days. Byleth would fall asleep to hard armour on his back and woke up with bruises that he would quickly heal once alone. Dimitri stayed the entire night and eat with the professor as before. Their hands would brush when Byleth handed the prince his plate. Before leaving, Dimitri would bump into him gently.

There was a new level of contact that Dimitri was permitting himself. It was still a bit brutal, and any normal person would have probably complained about the bruises. Byleth didn’t care. He could heal them. But could he help Dimitri heal?

The touches were a far cry from his rage on the battlefield, the cut and stab and fight. They were gentle in their intent, if not in their realisation. A bit uncomfortable, but bearable. Byleth wouldn’t trade it for anything else, even as the cold of the metal armour dug into his back, even as Dimitri arms tightened a bit too much.

Then a week later (already?), something changed again. Byleth went to sleep, closing his eyes, listening for the sounds of Dimitri joining him behind him. The tell-tale clicks of metal, the creaking of the mattress, and the weight of Dimitri arms on him. Nothing came. Dimitri had stopped himself in the middle of the room. Byleth frowned and waited. Was a nightmare coming? Did Dimitri change his mind?  
An impact was heard on the floor. Then another. And finally, Dimitri slipped behind Byleth in the bed. Two limbs that were quickly becoming familiar embraced the professor. Byleth reached for one of them and meet with skin. The professor eyes flew open. On Byleth torso, Dimitri’s hands were bare. The former mercenary marvelled at the callouses, hardened and more numerous that he remembered from the academy days. His fingers were gently tracing the skin, feeling scar tissue. Dimitri’s hands were warm.

The following night, Dimitri took off the forearm’s protectors too. Byleth had carefully traced the muscles like a caress, before settling his own hands on Dimitri wrists. The night after, the legs protection had gone. The breastplate remained a little longer. Until it was gone too.

Oh, when Byleth had feel Dimitri bare torso on his back, his breath had stopped. Contact. Warmness. Two pieces of a puzzle slotting in place. Had Byleth even been embraced like this? Had Dimitri?

Byleth didn’t know what to do with himself. Emotions were still so new to him. He loved to discover them, to put a name on the fleeting sentiments he was sensing. Happiness, to see his blue lions smiling. Irritation at Annette mess in the kitchen. Pride, to see Felix progress. Indignation at Ingrid stories. Satisfaction at Ashe success. Amusement at Sylvain antics. Sadness, listening to Dedue tales of Duscur. Empathy helping Mercedes. Calm, fishing with Flayn. Wonder toward the young man Dimitri had been. Kindness for the orphans at the monastery. Fright at seeing the one he cared for in danger.

Byleth had liked to tell it all to Sothis. She had been patient, in her own way, both helping and berating him for his foolishness. Tone fond, she had given advice like she would to a child. She put a name to his confusion. She explained that the fluttering feeling inside his stomach wasn’t a disease. That it was normal to feel. For someone who had spent the better part of their life not really feeling anything, numb… it was so overwhelming. 

Being in Dimitri arms was so overwhelming. Byleth didn’t know what to do, what to think, what to feel. Sothis was gone. As if sensing his distress, Dimitri had frozen (but not withdraw). Time had pass; Dimitri unmoving. Byleth was shaking, his usual calm failing him. If Byleth had had a beating heart, it would have been going in overdrive. He had gripped Dimitri’s hand (too strong) like a reflex, seeking their warm, their contact, trying to anchor himself.

After a moment (an eternity), Byleth had regain control. Dimitri hadn’t left him. Silent, but Byleth had felt his hold tightened, felt him getting closer.

“It’s okay.” Byleth murmured, and he was telling the truth.

### 

The next time they went to bed, Dimitri had been afraid to approach. Like he was the one that had sent Byleth in such a state. But it wasn’t anybody fault. Had Byleth ruined everything?

Breaking the status quo, the professor had taken a hold of Dimitri naked hands, and gently guided him to bed. The prince arms embraced him, but Byleth could feel his hesitation to get closer. So the professor drew back until they touched, until his back was to Dimitri front. The prince couldn’t see his eyes, couldn’t see the reassurance and care Byleth was trying to communicate.

“It’s okay.” He said instead.

During the day, Byleth had been tempted to voice it again. He wanted to hold Dimitri hand, when he could see his fingers digging into his palms with barely contained rage. He wanted to brush his hair, when Dimitri would dig at the strands in his fury. He wanted to embrace him, when Dimitri would lash out. But theses touches were reserved for the night. To the dark, where Dimitri had borne himself to Byleth, offering his vulnerability in the confines of the professor room. Byleth would have like nothing more but to coerce the prince to the light with soft touches and caresses. Alas, it was Dimitri decision to follow, to take the hand hold out for him. Byleth could only wait once again.

“…It would be best to attack from the side. Bandits would probably expect us to charge with our lancers from this point.”

Byleth was strategizing with the rest of the blue lions, planning for an attack against bandits that had taken a hold on a nearby city. The lot of them were already in the fields, polishing their plan to account for new information. Dimitri was listening too, if only to know where the enemies would be hiding.

“Everyone’s ready?”

“Yes!”

The group had started to take hold of their position. While walking, Dimitri had bumped into Byleth, with enough force that the sound of metal was heard. His hand had brushed the professor too. Byleth had frowned. Was Dimitri not feeling well? Disoriented?

“Rude!” Sylvain interjected. Dimitri hadn’t reacted, carrying on his way to battle. “He could have at least excused himself for running into you.”

Byleth had shaken his head. Apologies were unimportant. Dimitri well-being was, however. During this battle, Byleth had kept an eye on him, but the prince had appeared as normal as could be. No dizziness, no accuracy problem. Maybe Dimitri had tripped earlier?

In the end, Byleth had think nothing of the accident. But then it happened again. Next battle, Dimitri had let his arm touch Byleth back after the battle. Back at the monastery, in the middle of the day, the prince had brushed his legs against Byleth. Again, and again. Then the professor had realised: it was no accident. Dimitri was voluntarily touching him. But what for? Was he seeking comfort? Were the voices getting louder?

Byleth was still a bit perplexed as for the reason why, but he would reciprocate every gesture Dimitri made from now on.

In the next battle, when the fight was over, and when Dimitri had let his arm bump into Byleth, the professor had bumped his body in return. The prince had nearly been shoved away, his hand coming to the place Byleth had jolted into. Was it too much force? Or was it too sudden? But Dimitri had recovered quickly, and things went on. When Dimitri leg had brushed his as they were walking in the monastery, with too much intent to be an accident, Byleth had pushed his hipbones into the Prince. The man had nearly toppled over (probably in surprise. Should Byleth warn him next time?)

The next time, the professor was in the training hall. The blue lions were sparring, both with each other and with the former mercenary. At the moment, it was Ashe that was partnered with Byleth, working on his lance work. Dimitri was absent, probably brooding in the chapel. The sound of training weapons echoed in the hall, a rhythmical tac-tac-tac of lance, axe, and sword crossing. Ashe was on the offensive, trying to land a hit on Byleth. Then all of a sudden, his eyes gazed to the side, and he sputtered, losing his footing. The professor lost no time to attack his open flank and push him down.

“Do not get distracted.”

Nonetheless, the professor turned around in the direction that Ashe was still looking at. The vision of Dimitri in broad daylight at the training hall surprised him a little, but Byleth face stayed blank. Before the professor could ask him what he needed, Dimitri shook his head. Hm. So he had come to watch. Byleth didn’t really know why, but if Dimitri was sure. Around the training hall, sparing at come to a halt with the arrival of the prince. Many of them were still locked in the middle of an exchange of blow, or just standing idly watching the scene unfold. Felix had been the only one focused on his practice duel, if the sight of Ingrid on the floor was any indication.

“Resume training.” Byleth ordered.

The blue lions obeyed after a second, as if regaining their senses. The practice had carried on at a normal, if subdue pace. The students were taking glances at Dimitri every so and then. Dedue in particular, was watching the prince like a hawk, his shield in front of him. His partner Annette was trying her best to redirect his attention. Byleth quickly came to the realisation that no more work would be done while Dimitri was still here. Better call it a day.

“We are done for today. Good work.”

Byleth went to the training rack to replace his wooden lance. Usually, the blue lions would do to, and rush to the bathhouse. But today, they lingered a little, talking to each other in hushed whispers. Watching him and Dimitri. Byleth smiled a little. They weren’t very discreet. But it’s true that an unexpected visit of Dimitri was unusual.

Byleth went up to Dimitri, still propped against the hall near the door.

“Can I help?”

Dimitri shook his head. No words. So it was personal. Before Byleth had time to worry, Dimitri presented him with a plate of food.

“For you.”

Byleth blinked. It’s true that he hadn’t eaten this morning, already being late for a council meeting. The professor had stormed out of the room, leaving Dimitri behind. He had forgot. Food could have wait until lunch, but here Dimitri was, offering. It probably was Byleth portion of this morning breakfast. It was kind of sweet.

The prince handed him the plate. Byleth took it, their fingers brushing a little too long.

“Thank you.”

As he spoke the words, Byleth hadn’t resist the need to brush Dimitri hair. A touch for a touch, Byleth was learning. So he patted down the blond head. It was an encouragement, like Jeralt had done with Byleth. Like Byleth had occasionally done with his students five years ago.

The professor saw quiet shock in Dimitri eye, frozen in place. Like he couldn’t register what just happened. Was it too much? But then, Byleth saw the plate Dimitri was still partially holding slip from the corner of his eyes. Losing sight of the prince face, the professor grabbed the plate with quick reflexes. Nothing had spilled, thankfully. It would be a waste. When Byleth head turn back up, Dimitri was turning tail and leaving.

The blue lions hadn’t been so preoccupied with the plate. 

When they had saw Dimitri coming into the training hall, they had all been surprised. What could he be doing here? There wasn’t an attack, wasn’t it? Should they trade their training weapons for silver one? But there had been a silent conversation between the professor and the prince (and it was still both really fun to see them communicating in grunts, nod and stare, and really impressive), and training had resumed. The blue lions had tried to work, but… the professor quickly realised that nothing would be done today and had release them. On any other occasion, they would have jump on the occasion. But with the presence of Dimitri? They wanted to know more.

It has been a while since the blue lions had been able to notice the progress of Dimitri and Byleth courtship. First the food and the gifts, then the show-off, then the sleeping platonically together business (that Flayn was still confused about), and finally the clean Dimitri and armour. But even without seeing it, the blue lions could attest that Dimitri was getting better.

The professor and Dimitri began to talk. From what the blue lions could heard, Dimitri was offering food again (better a plate than a fresh beast). The professor had taken it and thanked him. Nothing to write home about. But then the most interesting thing happened. Byleth patted Dimitri hair, and Dimitri had blushed. He was blushing. Honest to god pink on his cheek.

The bleu lions had been gobsmacked. It was so unexpected and so sweet. It had reminded them of the Dimitri they had knew at the academy, who was turning red under the professor praises, or at Annette suggestion to confess. Buried deep under the regret and the hatred, Dimitri was still the man they had known, the friend they had made, the prince they had and will always serve.

And when Byleth hadn’t pay attention to it and had look up to see Dimitri making an escape… the face of incomprehension he had made had even Dedue cracking a smile. It was just so silly! Love really is blind. They were perfect for each other.

### 

The blue lions started to notice that their prince was getting more tactile. Before this point, Dimitri had been very careful to avoid human contact to the best of his ability. Not that they were a lot of volunteers to touch him. The blue lions, and those who knew him, had given him space and respected the barriers he had built. Those who didn’t knew him had been too afraid to get closer. Still, there had been no touching. Until their dear professor of course.

The former students hadn’t really registered when it had started. But suddenly, they realised that if Dimitri and Byleth where in the same place, the two would get… affectionate?

“It’s like PDA, but there are not aware of it.” Sylvain had noted.

Stares were back in full force. And Dimitri and Byleth would. Touch. Every. Time. Innocent touches, like a brush on the arm, or a lingering hand. A pat on the shoulder. Dimitri close behind the professor, leaning on him for an instant. Small points of contact that would never stay too long. 

It was both sweet and kind of sickening. Felix was ready to throw hands. But the worst part was that they seemed completely obvious to it. Never commenting on it. No awkwardness. And it wasn’t as if they were trying to hide a relationship. Because there was no relationship. The blue lions had interrogated Dedue, whose room was adjacent to the professor, and who was getting them breakfast every morning. The man had been very clear: nothing more that what they had seen.

So the two of them were just touching because it felt natural. Disgusting. At first, the blue lions had kind of wondered if Dimitri courtship would success. Dimitri attempts as an adolescent had been useless: Byleth had never understood them. But this language of the beast? Now the professor was swooning. How? Why? Well, good for them. Dimitri was in good hands. And the professor too was getting happier. The blue lions hadn’t even realised it, but seeing Byleth now compared to the man with who they had reunited some months ago? Hope had flourished in his eyes, confidence strengthening his steps. He was smiling brighter, despise the war.

They were seeing the professor opening up too.

Then, something strange had happen. Dimitri and Byleth started to touch the rest of the blue lions too. Ashe had nearly cried the first time Dimitri had patted his back with a grunt. Felix hadn’t known what to say when Byleth had congratulated him with a grasp on his arm. The professor hands would touch Ingrid when healing her. The prince had help Sylvain get up in battle with a clasp of hands.

The most affectionate touches were still reserved for the two of them. But the rest of the blue lions would receive their share too. It was still surprising. But it was nice. They were feeling loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Step 6: Touch each other. Bump bodies. Pat.
> 
> Plot twist: Byleth too is discovering how to be human.


	7. Care

In the blue lions’ class, healing was usually Mercedes and Flayn’s job. Annette would often help, and Sylvain and the professor knew some basics too, but it was rarely necessary. It meant however that the job of healing Dimitri would often fell on their shoulder. And he was one of the worst patients.

His blatant disregard for his safety had broken all his friends’ heart. After having been missing for five years, to finally see him again covered in blood, obviously suffering… Mercedes had immediately offered to help. She was refused quite harshly. Even days later, as she took the time to refamiliarize herself with her friends, she couldn’t understand. Dimitri would rush headfirst into danger, rash, uncaring of what could happen to him. Worst, the prince believed his injuries to be punishment, his fault for not having been faster, stronger, better. He deserved it, he would often say, for he was a beast, and this beast had earned retribution.

Yet even monsters didn’t deserve such a fate. And Dimitri wasn’t one. Why endured such pain? For as much as Mercedes and Flayn respected Dimitri, they couldn’t comply with his wishes. Byleth had been clear too: heal Dimitri, but don’t put yourself in danger. The professor himself was often the one to put himself in precarious situation to rescue Dimitri. It didn’t sit well with the rest of the blue lions either (but thankfully, it had started to get better now).

Outside of the battlefield however, healing Dimitri was near impossible. He was refusing to go to the infirmary, no matter the issue, be it getting checked for smaller injuries or lasting wounds. Mercedes had tried to go to him, Flayn and Annette too. He had rejected all offers. The girls knew better than to insist. But it was still frustrating, to see the prince limp back to the monastery, or clutch his spear with bloodstained hand, when they could have help.

It was even more frustrating however, when Dimitri was hiding. He was good at it, not letting anything slip past his façade of calm fury and brooding stare. He was used to the pain, an old companion by now. The healers would suspect something was amiss, but they couldn’t do anything. Back at the chapel, alone, Dimitri would grasp at a gash on his side, or avoid moving to disturb a bruised rib. The following days, the prince would be a little pale, but he wouldn’t complain. He wouldn’t say anything.

Now that he was getting better, Byleth couldn’t let it slide anymore. Especially when Dimitri wouldn’t return to a ruined chapel, but to the professor bed. Fighting side by side had the advantage of letting Byleth know what injuries Dimitri had received. Byleth could also treat the wounds in no time thank to his healing skills. Nothing big or alarming in those past weeks. The former mercenary was quite sure that Dimitri was as fine as he could get physically. It was a relief.

So, when Byleth and the prince had been separated during battle, he had stayed calm, knowing Dimitri was capable. They had reunited not long after, once the fight was over. The prince had appeared fine, strong as usual, holding his lance tainted with the blood of his enemies. His face was impassive, no trace of his fury. They had come back to the monastery with the rest of the blue lions. There were a few hours of sunlight left, and the former students had been allowed free time.

Byleth had just saluted the gatekeeper when he felt Dimitri take hold of his arm. It was becoming more usual for Dimitri to touch him during the day, and so the professor wasn’t alarmed. The pull he could sense however was unusual. Dimitri’s grasp was firm, and he was trying to guide him away. Byleth trusted him, and so he followed.

Dimitri led them to the professor room, and Byleth had been quite perplexed. Then Dimitri began taking off his armour, and incomprehension grew on the former mercenary face. It wasn’t until Byleth saw blood on the prince clothes that he understood. Dimitri had been injured. And now Dimitri was showing him the wound.

He hadn’t need to say a word: Byleth was on him immediately. Even if the professor knew that the injury couldn’t be that bad, that he had walked just fine, that Byleth himself hadn’t see a wound, it was on old reflex. Dimitri was known for being terrible at treating himself, hiding his injuries more often than not. 

Byleth could vividly remember a time when the prince had tried to conceal a gaping wound on his side. The blood dripping after him had alert the professor, who had immediately asked Mercedes for help. The fact that Dimitri hadn’t protested showed the extent of the injury. After the accident, Byleth had request additional lessons on healing magic from the young woman.

But it was no time to dwell on the past. Dimitri’s wound this time was a minor one: a mess of bruises on his abdomen, probably the result of his armour cutting into him after a bad fall or a powerful punch. Byleth lost no time, applying his hands on the skin and letting his magic do the job. Dimitri was warm, and the professor fingers too. A few seconds later, the injury was no more. But the touch lingered for a bit.

Dimitri or Byleth could wash the clothing tomorrow.

### 

As much as he would have like to focus only on Dimitri and his path to recovery, Byleth unfortunately had duties to attend to. As heir to Rhea and steward in her absence (and how did it happen, he wasn’t even a religious man), he had to organise the reinforcements coming to the monastery, manage the knights, discuss of incoming plans and battle…Spending time with his former students was getting difficult, but Byleth would always try to take a moment to see them and instruct them. As for Dimitri, he would see him at night.

Byleth was often tired, but it wouldn’t stop him. He could take the time to rest once the war was over. Still, he was a fighter at heart, and couldn’t bear to stay inside too long, letting his blade grew dull. So when a minor conflict in one of the neighbouring village came to the church’s attention, Byleth followed his students into battle. At the end of it, he was feeling quite exhausted, but everyone had been fine. Dimitri appeared to be fine too. And they had managed to avoid unnecessary bloodshed with the villagers.

Byleth was giving final orders, and congratulating his students, when he suddenly felt Dimitri presence behind him. He turned around, his movements slower than usual (but Byleth hadn’t been hurt?). The professor met Dimitri gaze.

“Are you injured?” The prince asked sharply, as if wondering the same thing. But he had been beside Byleth in the fight and knew that he hadn’t. Byleth frowned.

“I don’t think I am.” 

Dimitri nodded, but didn’t move away. And then, before Byleth could react (something truly was wrong with him), Dimitri had taken a hold on the professor and was now carrying him. Byleth had been hauled on his shoulder, one of Dimitri’s hand resting on his back, the other arm still holding Areadbhar. It wasn’t comfortable, with the hard armour Byleth could feel under the pelt and the cloak. The professor would have tried to escape the hold if it was anyone else than Dimitri. But the man’s strength was prodigious, and Byleth knew he had no chance. So he didn’t struggle. But just because he had accepted his fate of being carried around didn’t mean he was graceful about it. A frown was present on Byleth face, and he didn’t know what to do with his hands, so they were hanging awkwardly on Dimitri’s back.

“I can walk by myself.”

“You are exhausted.”

“I am…” Dimitri interrupted him.

“You were slower than usual in battle. You barely managed to doge some obvious hits. You took more time giving out orders. I managed to lift you on my shoulder before you could even react. Your precious students could be hurt because of your negligence. So, tell me again, are you fine?”

“I…”

Byleth wasn’t one to tire easily. He could train for hours on end, a fact that had been particularly useful while training his students. He could fight with little sleep, something he had done multiple time as a mercenary on the road. He could stay awake for hours completing paperwork, as he had done recently. He also spared a lot of his time for his students: cooking with Dedue, eating with Ingrid, gardening with Ashe, singing with Annette, going to the market with Sylvain, donating food with Mercedes, sparing with Felix, fishing with Flayn…

Oh. He was overworking himself, wasn’t he? It’s true that he had been feeling sleepier recently. Byleth had though that it was something to do with his fusion with Sothis. She had always seemed ready to doze off at a moment notice. As they were now one…

“I’m not fine.” The professor admitted. Dimitri nodded, but didn’t add anything.

They joined with the rest of the blue lions, who were crossed between worry and amusement.

“Professor! Are you alright?” 

“I’m okay.”

“You should carry the professor more gently!” Ingrid suggested.

“Yes! Try holding him like you would a bride!” Sylvain added.

From where he was, Byleth could see Dimitri ears turn pink. It also didn’t help when the blue lions started to bicker, trying to establish the best way for Dimitri to hold their poor professor. The suggestions were getting more ridiculous, and it was clear that the prince was trying to ignore them. Byleth was still a bit perplexed: while it was nice that Dimitri was trying to enforce his well-being, the professor was still far from helpless. He could have been fine walking the way back to Garreg Mach, even if he couldn’t fight.

But Dimitri seemed determined now, and he wouldn’t let him go. So the group marched into the monastery, Dimitri in the lead, carrying a blank-faced professor like a sack of grain. Many knights and nuns turned around, surprised by the vision. Both the prince and the professor were impassive, despise the absurd position. The onlookers didn’t dare to laugh, afraid that the beast prince would come for their head. The blue lions had no such restrain and were barely concealing smiles.

“Good work today on the mission. Try to get some rest before tomorrow.” Byleth added, just before separating after the gate. He was still hoisted on Dimitri’s shoulder, and the effect was quite comical.

“You too professor!”

“Your highness, you should ensure that the professor get some sleep too!”

“Don’t keep him up all night!”

If the blue lions made any more comments, Byleth didn’t hear them. Dimitri had speed up and was walking toward their room. It was still a bit early for sleeping, but Dimitri was on a one-track mind. The door opened, and Dimitri slipped inside, careful to avoid banging Byleth against one of the walls. He let the lance in the corner and approached the bed. Then the prince carefully passed the professor from his shoulder to the mattress. With one hand under his knees and one hand on his back, Dimitri deposed Byleth on the bed.

Byleth had ceded resistance for today. He would concede Dimitri’s point, he needed some sleep. And maybe a slight change of schedule. Even if he hadn’t liked to be carried around helplessly. But it had warmed his heart to see Dimitri fretting over him in his own way. The prince liked to pretend he was too cold and inhuman to spend time helping others. But a monster wouldn’t care for others like that.

When Dimitri tried to let go, the professor arms snaked around his neck to prevent him from moving. The surprise nearly made him toppled over Byleth, but reflexes prevailed. Dimitri braced himself on the headboard, glaring at the professor. 

“You need sleep too.” Byleth explained.

Dimitri frowned, clearly not liking the idea. His eye glanced to the window, where the sun was still visible. Never before had the prince let his guard down this early. Was he thinking about possible visitors interrupting him? What was he afraid of? Dimitri didn’t want to show weakness. It was a survival instinct, engraved in his mind by years on the run. But here in Byleth room, no one would dare enter. The students who would have visited the professor had stopped coming altogether once they realised that Dimitri was spending the night. It was thoughtful of them, to allow the prince his privacy and peace of mind.

Still, habits were hard to break. Byleth himself was a terrible example. Even in the relatively safe environment of Garreg Mach, he was sleeping with multiple hidden weapons. But could they not protect themselves and each other? Why was it so frustrating to help Dimitri relax? Byleth was still afraid that a wrong move or answer would send the prince reeling.

But he was getting better at it too. He was learning to know this new Dimitri, rekindling old memories and creating new ones. Byleth could already see the man the prince would become, could see the king he would make. Nothing would stop him from staying by Dimitri side, not even Dimitri himself. He needed someone to trust him. To both wait and push him. To hold his hand and guide him.  
Byleth hoped he was this person.

Dimitri flopped on the bed next to Byleth. It seemed like the prince was tired enough to join the professor. The semi-permanent dark circles under Dimitri eye were proof he could use the sleep. The blue iris was staring right at Byleth, who only blinked lazily, waiting for Dimitri. The spark was here too (Byleth was getting used to it). In those moments, Dimitri always seemed less haunted. At peace, if not happier. Byleth liked the expression.

“I will not carry you another time.” Dimitri said.

What Byleth understood was “Don’t do it again.”

### 

Dimitri was used to carrying things around. From his father and his father before him, he had inherited the prodigious strength of the Blaiddyd line. As a child, he had broken so many items: spoons, toys, stairs railings, even his uncle fingers once. He had learnt to moderate himself, by necessity if not choice. As an adolescent, his control had been better, but he often slipped, when he was angry, flustered or inattentive for example. (He had broken so many training weapons in the professor’s presence).

The prince had used his strength to help the cooks transport crates of food, or to carry weapons back and forth the training hall. Weight grown men would have problem with? Dimitri could carry them with only one hand. The prince had always tried to put his power to good use. He was proud of this ability, when it would make the merchants lives easier, or the kids smile as they were hanging off his arms.

But now until recently, Dimitri had been ashamed. He avoided touching anything. He didn’t know if he could control himself anymore. Those past years, he had only hurt and killed others. With the professor, it was different. He knew the man could give as good as he could get. And with his help, he had started to get back some of his control. It was a slow, but steady progress. Byleth was not someone you could underestimate.

That’s why Dimitri should have known better.

In the last battle, the prince had been injured. Nothing too serious, a nasty blow to his leg, but it probably was poisoned, if the numbness was any indication. Dimitri briefly thought about hiding it (a reflex). But it would have made the professor worried. Sad. He didn’t want it. So right after the last monster had been felled, Dimitri had come to the professor for a quick healing spell.

But as he tried to walk again, the prince’s leg had fallen under him, his knee hitting the ground. Byleth had been on his side in an instant, beckoning Mercedes over. Dimitri hadn’t said a thing, leaving it to the professor. The healer had come quickly, taking a look at the leg.

“The wound is probably poisoned, but it’s nothing life-threatening. I should be able to treat it back in the infirmary!”

Byleth had nodded, and Dimitri thought that it was the end of it. They would walk back to the monastery, and the prince would reluctantly go to the medical bay under the professor insistence. The injury was nothing Dimitri hadn’t faced before. Last time, he had just let the poison run his course, his body flushing it out. He could do it again, but Byleth was always looking out for his former students.

The professor waited for Dimitri to get up, before scooping him in his arms.

Dimitri’s leg was injured, and he shouldn’t use it. Garreg Mach wasn’t that far, but it would still be better. Byleth had no horse or wyvern to spare, so he would have to do. Dimitri had already carried him, so he could do it too. The professor put one of his arms under Dimitri’s knees, the other going to his back. And without leaving him time to protest, he had lifted him. Byleth sensed Dimitri flinch, but the prince didn’t react further, too surprised to move.

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m carrying you.”

Dimitri likely wanted to protest but couldn’t find the right words. At last he wasn’t struggling. Not waiting, Byleth started walking. Despise the appearance, the professor was deceptively strong. He had been as a mercenary, throwing enemies twice his size. Fusing with Sothis had amplified it even more. Carrying Dimitri was no bother, despise the armour.

“Put me down.” The prince ordered. Byleth didn’t respond.

“Put me down!” Dimitri roared. 

The professor could feel him wrestle in his arms, quite gentle despise his tone. He probably wanted to make Byleth lose his grip so that he could escape without hurting him. The thing was, Dimitri could get away from Byleth’s hold. He was strong enough. The fact that he didn’t resorted to force right away was a good sign.

“Let me take care of you.”

Dimitri stopped, eye wide. Stunned. But Byleth was only telling the truth. You helped me before. Can’t I do the same for you? Don’t you trust me? Dimitri’s gaze was intense, trying to decipher the professor’s motivation, searching for a lie. He could find none, only a sincere care. And so, Dimitri accepted Byleth’s support, if begrudgingly.

Like they previously had when Dimitri had carried the professor, the blue lions did a double take. But no, their prince was indeed in Byleth’s arms. Sylvain whistled.

“Way to go professor! Get your man!”

Dimitri hid his face in the professor’s torso.

### 

Fire. Smoke. Blood.

Byleth couldn’t feel his arms. Was the fighting still going on? He needed to go back. He needed to help his lions. He couldn’t leave them alone. They needed him. But he was so tired… He couldn’t feel his legs either. Why?

Ah, yes. An ambush. Dimitri had been in danger. He had no divine pulses left.

Everything was so numb. He couldn’t move. Stuck in his own mind. It reminded him of a time before Sothis. Would he be seeing her again? He wanted to be warm. Where was Dimitri? Where were the others. Were they safe?

His eyes were staring at the sky. Dark clouds were obscuring the sun. The smell of blood was getting fainter. Was it only him? He was alone. He couldn’t hear a thing anymore, only a continuous white noise. His eyelids were getting heavier. But he couldn’t sleep. No, he couldn’t go. He still had so much to do.

“Not again! Don’t leave me again!”

Was it Dimitri voice? Why was he worried? He was just here. He wasn’t leaving him. Byleth felt something warm around him. It was nice. He tried to come closer, but his limbs were still unmoving. He felt himself leaving the ground. The warmness was still here, encompassing him. But he could only see darkness, welcoming, inviting.

He passed out.

~~~

When Byleth opened his eyes again, he knew he was back at Garreg Mach. He could recognize the infirmary, like all the rooms of the monastery. The faint odour of magic and medicine was unique. What had he been doing? Memories were still fuzzy. But he had probably been injured. He wouldn’t be in a bed otherwise. Byleth felt weak, muscles sore, head pounding. One by one, he tried to move his limbs. Working. Nothing broken. 

He swept his gaze around the room. He was alone, but someone had been there recently. There was a chair by the side of the bed. Some sweets had been left on the table next to him, as well as some flowers in a vase. Gifts from his students. Byleth could imagine Mercedes bringing the snacks for the moment he would wake up, and Dedue decorating the room with flowers, their scent soothing. A small smile illuminated the professor face.

Byleth was trying to push himself into a sitting position when the door opened.

“Professor, you are awake! Oh, but you should not be trying to stand up by yourself!”

In a flash, Flayn was by his bedside, helping him adjust the pillow and sit up. Byleth let her, all the while she was fussing over him. Then she sat in the chair next to the bed.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“There was an ambush. I jumped in to save Dimitri.”

“You did. You took a blow to the stomach, and you also hurt your head falling. Mercedes and I treated you almost immediately, so you should not suffer from any lasting effects, but you will probably be sore for some days.”

She paused.

“You slept for three days. Everyone was worried for you. The blue lions all visited. I heard Ashe reading you a book. Even my brother took the time to pass by!”

Byleth nodded. He hadn’t wanted to trouble them. But the professor wouldn’t be sorry. To save his former students, he would do it again. At least, three days was better than five years.

“Is everyone else ok?”

No one else was present in the infirmary with him, so they were probably fine. Still, he needed to be sure. Flayn, who was smiling, eyes shining with both relief and sadness, flinched. Byleth noticed, and immediately tried to stand up, worry bubbling to the surface of his mind. She immediately realised.

“Oh no do not stand up! We are all fine! It was only the prince that…”

Suddenly, she shut herself, and tried to change the subject.

“Wait until I tell the others you woke up! They will all be so relieved to know that you are alright!”

“What happened to Dimitri?”

Flayn knew she had said to much. The only thing left to do was to explain.

“After you fell, his highness rushed to you. They were still some bandits left around and… it had been a long time since we had seen such violence from him. His cries were…”

The girl appeared still shocked by what she had seen. Byleth took her hand in reassurance.

“We feared for the worst. You were in his arms, unmoving, and he was screaming and holding you like you would disappear if he did so much as relent his grasp. We were afraid he would not let us approach… He never let go of you, not even for a second. He was the one who carried you to the monastery.”

Byleth’s feelings of sadness and guilt were immense. He should have known that Dimitri would react. He should have expected it, but the professor didn’t dare to think he would be having such an impact. The professor had moved as a reflex to save the prince. He was both honoured and afraid that Dimitri had such a need for him. Byleth would always be there for the prince. His heart wished to stay by Dimitri’s side. But… for all his power, Byleth was only human. Mortal. 

What a time to ponder his mortality. He had never really thought about it before. He had wondered about death, when his father was killed. Dead had always been such a fixture in his life: enemies would die, the people he was hired to kill would die, some of the mercenaries he fought with would die. But never had he thought about his own demise. Never had he thought about what his death would bring. He had no blood-relation left to mourn him. But he had friends. The blue lions. His family.

“Oh professor…”

Byleth felt a drop fall on his lap. Bringing a hand to his face, he met with tears rolling down his cheeks. He hadn’t realised he was crying. Flayn’s fingers squeezed his.

“I do not know if I should tell you this, but Dimitri stood guard at your door for nearly two days straight, before Dedue forced him to rest. And there was always someone by your side when you were resting. You are so much loved, professor.”

Byleth’s throat was tight. He didn’t know how to express what he was feeling. Words felt short, too little for the amount of sentiments he wanted to share. Tears kept on falling, uninhibited.

“Thank you.” The professor still managed to form.

Flayn nodded.

“I am going to tell the others you are awake. Try not to move too much please.”

Byleth vaguely heard her stand up and leave the room. But the professor was captivated by the teardrops. His fingers were wet with them, and he could feel them falling from the corners of his eyes. It was such a strange experience. The last time it happened, his father was dying. Wonder had been the further thing on his mind. Then, despise the infinite sadness that wouldn’t leave him, his eyes had been dry. But it wasn’t only sadness and grief now. It was a mix of emotion, something like relief, hope and joy joining in.

His heart wasn’t beating. But he was human too.

Byleth’s gaze was still locked into the tears falling on his hand, when he sensed someone enter the room. His head turned to the door. Dimitri was here on the doorstep. Their gaze met. The dark circles under the prince’s eyes were back. He was tensed, shoulders hunched. Hesitant, he took a step toward the bed where Byleth was sitting. The professor extended his hand, like an invitation. Dimitri didn’t take it. He didn’t sit either, standing straight and still like a statue, his imposing figure dwarfing Byleth, naked if not for his shirt.

The professor was pained to see Dimitri like this, knowing it was partially his fault. He should have been able to protect his students without hurting himself. They needed him still. And Byleth wasn’t ready to let them go. Still intercepting the blow meant for Dimitri had been the logical solution. Byleth could survive a cut to the stomach. Dimitri couldn’t survive a decapitation. As if reading his mind, the prince cut him off.

“You got hurt watching my back. I’m undeserving of your pity.”

Byleth wanted to protest, but he couldn’t talk. He didn’t know what to say. The professor tried to take Dimitri’s hand, but the prince reeled back.

“Do not touch me! Everything I touch I break. If you do not want to join the pile of corpses I leave in my wake, you better take your distance. I am not one of your precious pupils anymore. I do not need your care or compassion. I am only a beast.”

Oh, that wouldn’t do. Renewing his efforts, Byleth took hold of Dimitri.

“If given the choice, I would do it again.”

It must have been the wrong thing to say, because now, Dimitri was furious.

“Don’t. Don’t thrown away your life for me!”

“I will always try to protect you when you cannot.”

“Don’t make promises you cannot keep!”

Dimitri attempted to take his arm back, but Byleth’s grip was firm. It forced the prince to meet his eyes.

“It’s not a promise, but the truth. We are at war. I cannot predict the future. But I will always try my hardest to come back to you. Don’t you trust me?”

Silence. Dimitri had stopped his struggle. He could protest all he wanted, but he had faith in the professor’s abilities. His swordsmanship was unparalleled, his strategic wits the only reason the kingdom and the church were making any progress. Blessed by the goddess, Byleth was known to survive impossible situations. And most of all, Byleth was offering his word, his own trust, his devotion.

“I… I trust you.” Dimitri admitted in a soft voice. His hand caught that of Byleth’s, and gently clamped. “But do not go where I cannot follow. Do not become one of my ghosts.”

Byleth couldn’t make any promise, but he squeezed Dimitri’s hand in return. The new silence was more comfortable, in line with the quiet mornings they would share. Tension started to fade, to be replaced by a tentative tenderness. The sun filtering through the window casted light in the room, illuminating the two of them. Then, Dimitri bended down to place a gentle kiss upon the professor’s knuckles. Byleth quietly gasped.

The next moment, Dimitri was leaving the room, as overzealous blue lions began to enter. They quickly crowded around the bed, all of them speaking at the same time.

“What a relief to see you up professor!”

“Are you okay? Nothing is hurting too much?”

“You shouldn’t scare us like that!”

“Professor, you are a bit red. Do you have a fever?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Step 7: Take care of each other. Lick your wounds.


	8. Together

After the professor’s accident and subsequent trip to the infirmary, Dimitri started following Byleth everywhere. The prince wasn’t even trying to be discreet about it. He would walk by the professor side, not saying anything. Byleth wouldn’t comment and carried on about his day like normal. The silence and weird following didn’t bother them, but it was quite awkward for everyone else: try having a serious conversation with the professor with Dimitri’s face glaring at you.

The blue lions thought it would only last a few days, until the fright of losing the professor had passed. But Byleth was ok now, and Dimitri was still not leaving him. He would arrive with Byleth and leave with Byleth. He was following the strategist in councils, listening in, not saying a word. He was following the professor in his training sessions, staying on the side, his eyes not leaving the teacher. He was following the former mercenary to the marketplace, giving a scare to innocent passer-byers. And the worst? Tea parties. Dimitri standing around like an awkward if frightening bodyguard. Sylvain had learned his lesson.

Even Felix actively avoided the training hall when he knew Byleth and Dimitri would be there! The situation couldn’t last. It needed to cease. The rest of Dimitri’s courtship was ok, but the stalking was a bit much. Why was the professor not saying anything? They wanted to talk to Byleth, they really did. But it has become increasingly difficult to find Byleth alone. Dimitri was always there too. Like they were now one entity. Professor and Prince. Dimitri and Byleth. Dimileth?

The blue lions were not alone in this position. Gilbert too wanted to talk to the professor in private.

The knight of Seiros had met Byleth back at the academy. He was to assist the blue lions’ class in their mission to take back the Lance of Ruin. The man had come to him, polite, to introduce himself. He had seemed like a reliable ally, if a bit cold. The professor had immediately known about his relationship with Annette, his student, and had probably been stony on purpose. (Gilbert had liked it. It meant that someone was caring for his daughter.)

His impression of the professor had been confirmed during the mission. Gilbert had been both torned and happy to see his daughter in action. But her performance couldn’t eclipse that of the professor. His background as a former mercenary had been showing in his experience. He was both efficient and inspiring, and his students trusted his orders. Byleth was a good leader, and a good professor too.

After that, they had seen each other in passing, as members of the church of Seiros. The professor had been kind enough to come to him to return one of his lost items. They had eaten together one or two times. They have talked about fishing a little.

Gilbert served the knight of Seiros. But his duty was first and foremost to his country. He served the kingdom of Faerghus. He served the previous king. And he would serve Dimitri when the time would come. Observing the future ruler, it had been evident that his highness looked up to the professor. So Gilbert had known that they would meet again. He only wished it could have been under better circumstances. After five years of research during which everyone believed the prince to be dead, Gilbert had finally reunited with his liege. And the professor had been there too.

Dimitri wasn’t the same man that he had been at the monastery. Half-mad with fury and grief, Gilbert had been uneased by his behaviour. Still, he would follow his duty and his future king, and fulfil the promise he had made to his country years prior. He would try to guide the young ruler to the best of his abilities.

And then, step by step, the prince had started to get better. From the disturbed animal to a human being once again. Dimitri was calming down. He was taking better care of himself. He was starting to listen. And Gilbert knew that he had Byleth to thank. But something else was getting clearer too: The prince didn’t just want the professor approval. He wanted his love.

At first, Gilbert had been sceptical. He had heard the blue lions musing (they weren’t trying to be discreet). He wrote them off as gossips from the young adults to try and distracted themselves from the war. But then Gilbert had begun paying attention. He noticed the exchanged glances, the quiet touches, the elusive smiles. He had seen it before. King Lambert had been much the same.

And so Gilbert was trying to find the professor to have a talk with him. As a future king, Dimitri had a duty to the kingdom and its people. He couldn’t let himself forgot. He couldn’t let himself be controlled by love. It wasn’t the professor’s style, but Gilbert needed to be sure, on his honour as a knight. He needed to know Byleth’s intention toward the prince.

But for the moment, the knight had had no luck. His highness wouldn’t leave the teacher alone.

“That’s nearly two times in a row that’s the professor is late…” Annette remarked.

Everyone was waiting for the professor in the strategy room. In truth, Byleth being late was a rare occurrence made blatantly obvious by the empty seat at the end of the table. The former students of the blue lions’ class took the occasion to gossip once again.

“Is the prince keeping him in bed? He must be a real beast.” Sylvain teased. Seteth gasped.

“That is inappropriate! I am sure that the professor has only been delayed due to a perfectly valid reason.”

As to prove him right, the door opened to reveal the professor. He was dressed like usual and bore no sign of improper activities. 

“I’m sorry for the delay.” 

The professor bowed his head and went to his seat. Not surprisingly, his highness was following too. He took place behind Byleth, his eye tracking everyone in the room. Usually, he would stand still and glare, his face betraying no further emotions. He wouldn’t participate either.

“Well, as you all know, in today’s meeting we will be discussing…” Seteth started.

Everyone straightened up, face serious, listening and ready to comment. The council progressed normally, going from everyday concerns to plans and strategies against the Empire. When it finally came to the subject of the next battle, Rodrigue had just finished explaining the first draft before getting interrupted.

“We should not put the cavalry here.”

It was Dimitri. The prince had moved from his place behind the professor to stand by his side, eyeing the map the Duke of Fraldarius was presenting.

“We already used this method last time. The enemies would have planned for it. It would be better to…”

Everyone was too stunned to talk. Dimitri was actively participating in a meeting for the first time, to say something else than how he would get Edelgard’s head. It was good input too, from what Gilbert could visualise. The professor was approving. No, the professor was openly proud. A smile was present on his face as he listened to Dimitri’s proposal, nodding along.

For Gilbert, it was clear. This wasn’t some passing fancy or wartime romance. Standing by his highness’ side, Byleth was pushing the prince to be the best version of himself. He was always quietly supportive, but he would not get pushed around. Dimitri was still debating with both Rodrigue and Seteth, modifying configuration and battalions to try and come up with the best solution. The professor added something, for which the prince thanked him.

The professor was patient too, taking the time and care to steer Dimitri out of the darkness of his own mind. Both intelligent and kind, teaching, leading, guiding his formers students, his troops, his people. And he was loved by them too. Indeed, Byleth would be a formidable consort to the young king.

“Thank you, professor. May the goddess protect the future that you and his highness will build together.”

The professor turned his head to Gilbert, incomprehension evident on his face. It didn’t matter.

For the next council, a seat was added for the prince.

### 

Before meeting him, Rodrigue had already heard about the mysterious new professor of Garreg Mach. The son of Jeralt the blade breaker and former captain of the knights of Seiros, had saved the three heads of house and future leaders of Foldan in Remire village. Then the archbishop Rhea herself had personally appointed him to be a teacher at the monastery. And from what he understood, the former mercenary took to the position like a fish to water. It was something out of a fairy tale.

Dimitri’s descriptions of the man had always been in this line of thoughts too. The prince often wrote letters to Rodrigue, as a somewhat father figure. After the tragedy of Duscur, the Duke of Fraldarius had taken the young prince under his wing. It included receiving Dimitri’s messages, waxing poetry about the new teacher at Garreg Mach.

How strong he was, wielding all kind of weapon with the ease of a master. How intelligent he was, teaching them all about theories and strategies. How ingenious he was in battle, adapting and rethinking plans in a second! How graceful he was, dodging and dancing across the floor of the training hall. How kind he was, going out of his way to return lost items to students. How selfless he was, bringing food to the Monastery’s orphans. How perceptive he was, always knowing the right thing to do to help. Eyes deeper than the sea. The voice of an angel. An evasive but beautiful smile.

Ah, to be young and in love! Rodrigue had been highly amused by the description Dimitri provided. This professor sounded more like a character out of a book than a real person. The Duke thought the prince exaggerating, embellishing the true out of affection. But Dimitri had been surprisingly accurate. Rodrigue had witness it himself.

The rare time Felix wrote home, the professor would usually get a mention too. His son spoke highly of the teacher, a great swordsman and even better strategist. The man must have impressed him. Rodrigue had been, when the professor and his class came to his aid in Fraldarius’ territory. Without their help, the battle would have taken a darker turn for the villagers. Byleth had been a force to be reckoned with, both as an individual and a leader. His students trusted his judgement, listened to his command, and Felix even obeyed his orders. For Rodrigue, that was reason enough.

Five years hadn’t eroded his abilities. Seeing the professor, Rodrigue understood better the loyalty he inspired. In battle, he was a driving force for his troops, the spearhead of the fight, a beacon of authority and reassurance. At the monastery, he was a gentle presence, soothing wounds, bringing hope, a quiet but steady support. With his former students, he was glowing, talking and listening, proud. 

With Dimitri… With Dimitri there was something different. It was subtle, but undeniable. The professor appeared happier with the prince around. But he wasn’t the only one. The prince touches were softer, lingered longer. His gaze would search the professor across the room. His body would lean toward the strategist, but he was probably unconscious of the action. It reminded Rodrigue of Lambert. His old friend had been much the same with the prince’s mother. And so the Duke accepted that Dimitri’s love hadn’t faded.

Now Rodrigue wasn’t one to spy. But he had been worried about Dimitri’s state of mind. The years had not been kind to him, crushing the boy he once was, to create the man he had become. A man mad with grief, wearing promises to the dead like a protective shell. But Rodrigue could see his future king shining trough the cracks of the armour. The professor had too.

Rodrigue wanted to trust the man to guide the prince. But as his adviser, and as a sort of father, he had to be sure of Byleth’s motivation. What were his hopes for Dimitri? What was his purpose? It was of course nothing like a test of approval. Just a chat between two individuals caring for the prince. Rodrigue would have like to talk to the professor alone, but it had become quite difficult to find him without the prince.

The Duke had adopted the habit of visiting the training grounds, knowing it was the place where his son spent most of his time. Even if his relationship with Felix was complicated, he loved his child, and liked to watch his progress. If Rodrigue was lucky, Felix would ignore him. Often, he would leave. The presence of other people training with him was the best scenario: Felix wouldn’t abandon his classmates.

So Rodrigue knew quite a bit about the blue lions training. That’s also why the Duke went to the training grounds, hoping to catch sight of the professor. The teacher often trained with his former student, in individual or common sessions. If present, Dimitri would stay in a corner not saying a word (it was becoming usual).

It seemed the goddess was smiling upon him. Both Felix and the professor were training with the rest of the students. Rodrigue passed by Dimitri, back against the wall, arms crossed. The Duke took a moment to watch his son, locked in a three-way spar with Annette and Mercedes. He then turned his attention to Byleth, the man he wished to see. The professor was trading blows with Sylvain, a lance in hand.

After a few minutes, Byleth excused himself to Sylvain, turning toward Rodrigue he had heard enter.

“Can I help you?” He politely asked.

“Indeed. I was curious to see the progress of your students.”

Byleth gaze darted to Felix, still focused on his own sparing. Rodrigue shook his head.

“But I am not here to talk to you about my son. I wish to speak with you. But first, would you indulge in a training match with me? I have seen you in the battlefield, but I have not faced your skill myself.”  
Rodrigue took great amusement in the silence that followed. The rest of the student had stopped their sparing, and he heard Ingrid gasp. Byleth agreed, unfazed.

“Spear only, first one to three?” The Duke suggested. Byleth nodded once again.

Rodrigue took of his cloak and went to the training rack to acquire a lance for himself. At this point, the blue lions had left the arena, watching the event unfold from the side lines. Dimitri hadn’t moved, but Rodrigue could feel his gaze on him as he assumed a fighting stance.

“You are going to hurt yourself, old man.” The Duke heard his son say.

Rodrigue took offense to the statement. He wasn’t young anymore, but he was still a knight fighting in a war. Plus, it was still a friendly match. Byleth and the duke circled each other, seizing the new opponent. Then Byleth launched, Rodrigue barely managing to avoid the blow. He would need to concentrate.

A good few minutes later, Rodrigue had to admit defeat. The professor was incredibly nimble on his feet, and the duke couldn’t seem to land a blow on him. It wasn’t an easy fight for Byleth either, and Rodrigue took pride in the fact that the professor seemed tired too, sweat dripping on his forehead, breath drawing short. Byleth approached him, holding out his hand to help Rodrigue get up. The Duke took it.

“It was a good match. Thank you for the opportunity, professor.” Rodrigue complimented. The teacher nodded.

“Will you protect Dimitri with the same fervour?”

The Duke voice was now serious. Byleth looked to the prince, almost like a reflex at the mention of his name. The man was still intently watching the two of them, but the moment his gaze met the teacher’s, Rodrigue discerned something like a smile. The prince couldn’t hear them, too far away from the arena where the training match had taken place.

“With everything I have.” 

Rodrigue acquiesced. 

“Good.”

“Professor, that was incredible! You too Sir Rodrigue! Could you show me the technique you used? Just after you…” 

Ingrid enthusiastic intervention cut the conversation short, but Rodrigue was satisfied. He had his answer. Returning for his cloak, Rodrigue intended to leave the training ground with the bathroom’s direction in mind. He would need to change after this impromptu session. Just before exiting the training hall, he heard Felix’s voice.

“Not bad old man.”

Rodrigue smiled.

~~~

The next time the Duke visited the ground, he was not surprised to see his son sparing. What was more surprising was his son’s opponent, the prince himself. He appeared calmer than in battle, but his movement were still a bit too violent and energic for a training ground. Maybe that’s why Felix was his adversary, and not Ashe or Flayn. His son had never been afraid of a challenge.

Still perplexed, Rodrigue went to Ingrid, standing on the side, for responses. He had a fondness for the young woman wishing to be a knight. In another life, she could have been his daughter-in-law.

“It started not long after you left the training hall last time actually. Dimitri stood up and started to spare with Byleth himself. It ended up in a tie. Since then, the prince had been participating in training, mostly engaging with the professor. But he also spared a bit with Dedue, and well with Felix as you can see. We think it may be a bit early to attempt to train with him ourselves, as his fighting style is too … aggressive still.”

As to prove her point, one of Dimitri’s attack missed Felix, and destroyed the floor instead.

“But it’s a good step in the right direction, to have him participate in training again. Maybe your fight inspired him?”

Rodrigue wasn’t really sure. The professor was watching Dimitri and Felix’s fight, a small smile on his face. The prince took his eye off his son for an instant, glancing at the professor. His next attack was deal with renew vigour, and had the professor shake his fist approvingly. Rodrigue tried very hard to contain a laugh. Lambert too had showed off to capture the attention of his spouse. 

The next night, as Rodrigue was kept awake by the memories of his old friend and his eldest son, he met again with Byleth.

“Professor… I entrust the young prince, and the future of Faerghus, to you.”

Rodrigue knew that even if he couldn’t be there for Dimitri, Byleth always would.

### 

Byleth often wished for his father to be there. For years, he had been his one constant, the one person he could trust to love him and always have his back. There were still so many moments they could have spent together, so many memories they could have made, so many things he would have like to ask him.

Especially now that people were looking up to him for guidance, for responses, for leadership. Had his father ever felt as lost as he had? Jeralt had always been the picture of confidence, sure of his abilities and certain of his path. Despite his calm and assured appearance, Byleth often had doubts plaguing his mind. Sothis wasn’t here to provide advice, and his father was dead. He had no one to turn to in those matters. 

Byleth would have like to talk to his father once again. Now that feelings were blooming in his heart, he had so many questions. What was anger, happiness, jealousy? Had Jeralt ever feel the same as his son? Back in their mercenary days, Byleth hadn’t feel much. There was been no need to talk about non-existent feelings he had had no interest in. And now it was too late.

But the feelings wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t something you could ignore forever. And Byleth was as curious as ever. Who could he ask for guidance? There was only one person Byleth trusted with his questions.

Seteth had been wary of Byleth at first. He was an unknown man that Rhea had trusted way too quickly. She had made excuses about his father being the former captain of the knight of Seiros, and how it was a mark of his trustworthiness. Seteth had been sceptical but complied with Rhea’s judgement.

The following months, Seteth payed special attention to the young professor. He needed to know if the man was going to be a problem. What Seteth learnt was that Byleth was as enigmatic as he appeared. He was a natural at teaching, if unconventional, the students taking to him quickly. He was great in practical situation, the mock battle a first example followed by a multitude of missions. He was hard-working, nights spent in the library proof of his dedication. He was kind, taking the time to return lost objects to students all across the monastery. Even if running wasn’t dignified for a teacher.

At the same time, Byleth had marvelled at the simplest of things, like the flowers at the greenhouse, or the fishes in the pond. He knew nothing of the teaching of the church, and was often improper in handling social interaction, from his running around to the random gifts or tea parties. The professor would also take people by surprise, silent as a shadow, or listen in to conversation he wasn’t really privy to. Seteth couldn’t really understand Byleth’s mind but considering he had grown up with mercenaries on the road, maybe that could explain it.

But the most frustrating thing? Byleth knew nothing about himself. How long had he been a mercenary? How old was he? Where was he born? Who was his mother? Every time he received a vague answer. The professor wasn’t lying : he really didn’t know. What was Jeralt thinking? What had he been trying to do? Surely the captain of the knight had a reason for his strange behaviour.  
And then Byleth had wield the sword of the creator. It was such an impossible feat, and yet! How could this stranger be able to use a relic with a crest long lost to time? Rhea’s look… Seteth hadn’t liked it. The mystery surrounding the professor was growing. Seteth was determined to get responses.

But Flayn had been kidnapped. Never before Seteth had been this afraid. The professor had been sympathetic, promising to find the little girl. Seteth hoped he was sincere. It seemed that Byleth was a man of his word: not long after, the professor had rescued Flayn. For that alone, Seteth was graceful. The event cemented the adviser’s own impressions.

From this moment on, Seteth settled on trusting Byleth. He agreed to let his little girl join the blue lions house and saw her happier than ever. She was smiling, telling Seteth all about the new friends she had made, and the new things she had discovered. Seteth was a bit sad to see her grow, but he supposed it was the case for all fathers. And Seteth knew that Byleth had a role in his daughter’s happiness.

As months went by, he got fond of the professor, trying his best for his students. And then, Jeralt had died. Killed by this unknow enemy. The first click in a tumble of events. Seteth hadn’t really know the man himself, but to see such sorrow in the professor’s eyes? Seteth imagined that it was he who died, and Flayn who was left alone.

Not long after, the professor got his vengeance on his father’s assassin. And Byleth had come back with hair the colour of his people. At this moment, Seteth knew Rhea had done something to the boy. So he started investigating. He had a duty to help the professor learn the truth about himself. From Rhea, he was able to pry information about Byleth’s existence. Seteth had only scratched the surface. But he knew Rhea had done something forbidden. And that Byleth was like them.

Seteth was conflicted, between trusting Rhea and helping the professor. It hadn’t matter in the end. Both had disappeared in the monastery’s attack five years ago. But now the professor was back, and Rhea was still missing. Seteth swore to aid Byleth to the best of his ability, as both an adviser and a friend.

Weeks passed. Byleth and Seteth would often stay late into the night, talking about the monastery’s administrative tasks around a cup of tea. Or take the time to sit by the pier to fish, discussing lighter subjects. Along the way, Seteth started to think of Byleth as family. He was like Flayn or himself, like Rhea too. He had no one left either. And he knew so little. Seteth remembered being heart-broken, listening to Byleth timidly ask if there was a way for him to know his mother’s name. The adviser hadn’t been able to help. Rhea would have known, and she should have told Byleth. Seteth was growing frustrated with Rhea’s antics. 

To Byleth, he had told they were family. That his door would always been open to him, for a chat or advice or a simple cup of tea.

If Seteth had known about what was to come, he would have put specific restrictions to his invitation. One afternoon, the adviser heard a knock on his door. Inviting in his guest, he hadn’t been surprised to see Byleth on the doorstep. It wasn’t rare for the two of them to strategize around some tea and snacks. But Byleth was empty handed, no food or drinks or paperwork in sight. And his face was crunched up, a deep frown between his eyes. Seteth could almost see the gears turning in his head. 

So this was a personal matter. Seteth set aside his work and wondered what could be bothering the professor. He offered a cup of tea that the teacher accepted without looking. They settled down in chairs. Seteth waited for Byleth to find his words.

“I need your advice.”

Seteth nodded, encouraging. 

“What trouble you?”

“I think I might be sick.”

Sick? Seteth was surprised. For all the time he had know Byleth, the man had never been ill. Even when half of the monastery population had fallen sick from the flu, Byleth had been out and about, visiting his students and bringing them the material they had missed. Even when falling of a cliff, sleep had been the only thing needed for him to regenerate (Flayn had done the same).

“What are your symptoms?”

“Shortness of breath, fever, sweating, disorientation, difficulty concentrating, chest pain, blood rushing to my face.”

Oh Seteth didn’t like where this was going.

“And when do your symptoms manifest?”

“At any hour during the day. I cannot seem to find a pattern.”

“Could it be possible that those symptoms appear only in the prince’s presence?”

Silence, as Byleth thought about it.

“…Yes. How could you know?”

Hope was audible in Byleth’s voice. Seteth was already dreading where this conversation was going.

Flayn had informed him of the newly developing relationship between the prince and the professor. It was still in the courting phase, according to her and the blue lions, but already strong. Seteth had eyes too. He knew that the bond between the future king and Byleth was deep and true. He saw the way they would hold entire conversation with their eyes. He saw the undeniable trust they shared, protecting each other across the battlefield. He saw the love, in the touching hands, in the emotions openly displayed on their faces. It reminded Seteth of a simpler time, when he and his wife had meet.

Still the adviser could not help but worry: love was no magical solution. Was the prince good enough for the professor? Despite his progress, Dimitri’s mental state was far from alright. Would he turn on Byleth? Would he hurt him? Unfortunately, Seteth had little chance to interact with the prince himself outside of battle and council meeting. Out of respect and privacy, Seteth had also avoided rumours on the prince and professor’s courtship. But maybe he shouldn’t have, if Byleth didn’t even realised he was in love. What had Jeralt been teaching him?

“You are not sick. What you are experiencing is… attraction.”

“Oh… What does it mean?”

Had Seteth not been a holy man, he would have scream. He couldn’t imagine having a talk of this nature with the professor. But he knew that no one else could discuss such worries with him. Seteth couldn’t decently leave this affair unattended. It was a matter of the heart, mind, and body. Someone had to instructed him, and unfortunately as a family figure it was his duty. Thankfully, Flayn was too young to think about such matters.

“Commonly, when someone is attracted to another, they will like to enter a romantic relationship. If successful, the relationship will advance into marriage, the two partners spending the rest of their life together.”

“…What does it have to do with a fever?”

Seteth cringed, but knew he had no other solution.

“Do you know about sexual intercourse?

“I do.”

Seteth sighed. One less thing to explain.

“Attraction can be seen as the manifestation of one desire for…sexual intercourse.”

“Oh. Oh!”

Byleth blushed. At least Seteth wasn’t the only one embarrassed. Silence settled in the room, the professor likely trying to grasp the depth of those new revelations. Seteth was trying hard to preserve his remaining dignity. Oh, goddess he could not do it again when Flayn would be of age. But his role was not finished. Seteth was beet red.

“I would recommend reading about… safe practices on sexual encounters. Books are available in the library on the subject.”

Byleth nodded, still looking as ashamed as Seteth felt, and promptly left the room. Seteth could share the sentiment. The adviser took several minutes to breathe, trying to confirm that this conversation had taken place. The embarrassing memory wouldn’t disappear. A trip to the market would be good. Getting some fresh air, unravelling his legs, maybe distracting himself with a new book.

Not too long after, Seteth was walking down the road of the market. He had managed to get himself under control again, his face returning to his usual complexion. The adviser was also trying very hard to no think about the conversation he just had. What an interesting stall! Maybe he could buy new fishing supplies, or extra ink. Or bring a gift to Flayn, his little girl not at all interested in matter of love!

For the next hour, Seteth distracted himself in the market. He actually enjoyed it more than he thought, familiarizing himself with the daily life of people of this new age. So many things had changed, and he had yet to learn them all. The way people were speaking, the new products he encountered, the clothes too. Even if the continent was at war, people were smiling, children running along the way, laughing and playing. One such kid barely avoided crashing into Seteth, briefly rutning around to excuse himself. The adviser smiled to himself. No matter the time, some things would never change.  
Then from the corner of his eyes, Seteth saw the same child collide with a passer-by, crashing into the ground. Sobs escaped the kid: he probably had hurt himself falling. Before the adviser could think about helping, the person the child had run into turned around and crouched. Seteth nearly fell himself as he recognized the prince. 

Dimitri had made eye contact with the child and was talking to them. Seteth couldn’t hear, but the prince face was as relaxed as he would get. The two of them spoke a little more, before Dimitri produced a bandage from his cloak. Seteth didn’t know the prince even had those, but he could imagine Byleth forcing them on him. 

Around them, bystanders were whispering to each other. Some had recognized the mad prince, if the worry painting their face was any indication. The child being patched up by the future king either had no idea about the identity of his helper or had no care. Once he was done, Dimitri attempted to get up, before the kid’s arms snaked around his shoulder for a hug. The prince froze. Then the child was gone, a big smile on his face and already running away to join his friends.

Seteth probably would not have believe the scene real if he hadn’t witnessed it himself. Since his return, the prince had been more beast than man. Snarling, violent, cruel. It was a pitiful sight of humanity forgotten. Seteth had not approved of either methods or ideals. But he couldn’t deny the prince’s role in the future play. If he could recover himself. Byleth’s trust in the man was unwavering, and so Seteth had at least agreed to abide by the professor’s judgment. The adviser himself didn’t need to see the prince in any sort of capacity outside of their duties.

In recent weeks, Seteth could attest that maybe Byleth’s perception was as astute as ever, as the prince started to make visible progress toward recovery. He was standing straighter, he was calmer, he was engaging in councils meeting again. Maybe not all hopes were vain. Maybe with time and efforts, things could get better. Maybe it was possible to lose oneself so deeply, but still manage to recover. Seteth briefly thought of his brothers Indech and Macuil.

While the adviser was lost in thoughts, Dimitri had gotten up again, and was walking toward a stall. Discreetly, Seteth decided to follow him. He was intrigued to see what the prince was doing. To his knowledge, the future king had no reason to leave the monastery. Dimitri approached the merchant, and quickly bought… a gardening tool? The prince had no interest in the greenhouse. But Seteth remembered Byleth telling him earlier that his old trowel had broken in half.

Seteth smiled to himself. He could not approve of the prince yet, but if one thing was sure, it was that Dimitri was trying. Maybe Seteth would keep an eye on the professor and future king’s courtship after all. He had to be sure that the prince would be right for Byleth.

### 

Getting to talk to Dimitri was difficult. At first, he had hidden himself in the destroyed chapel, speaking to his ghosts and refusing to answer the living. Then he had snapped at everyone, sending them away. Later, his responses were often cold and monosyllabic. Now, it was impossible to detach him from the professor.

So to be able to speak to the prince alone, the blue lions had devised an ingenious plan of action. Dimitri would not have followed them willingly, even if Annette and Mercedes smiled and Ashe made his puppy eyes. Byleth couldn’t know either. So Flayn had teleport him. Again.

Everything had been planned to perfection: the former students had taken note of the professor’s schedule and noticed that when Byleth was visiting Seteth for tea, Dimitri usually stood outside the room waiting. So the next time the professor had entered Seteth’s office, Flayn had lost no time warping the prince to the garden. There, Dimitri had found himself cornered by all the blue lions around a table and tea.

And so, here they were.

“Is this some kind of twisted joke?”

A piece of cake was shoved into his hands by Mercedes. Dimitri grabbed it by reflex.

“Now now Dimitri…”

“We had let it slide until now, for evident reasons.”

“But now that you are getting better, it’s time to get down to business.”

“What are your intentions toward the professor?”

The prince’s face immediately turned to an interesting shade of red. That how the blue lions knew Dimitri was ready. The Dimitri from a few months ago would have already barged away and cut them down.

“We know that you love him, but have you told him?”

“Sleeping together is all good and dandy, but are you planning on making an honest man out of the professor?”

“Or maybe you will let him go?”

“But the professor is quite a catch. I would have no problem going after him myself.”

“NO!”

Dimitri had stood up, fists tights around his now crumbling plate.

“The professor is mine!”

“Oh, possessive.”

“But the professor is not yours yet.”

“Everyone can offer him gifts and show off his skills. But can you give him the love and care he deserves?”

Dimitri sobered up pretty quickly, his rage seemingly forgotten. His shoulders were slumped down, his eye gazing at his hands.

“He… He was the only reason I came back. I tried to convince myself that he was dead. That I truly had nothing to lose. But my hope would not go away, the hope that he was alive, that I could see him again. That the man I loved had not join the ghosts of the people I have let die.

And now… he is alive, goddess-blessed, and I am nothing but a beast. I know I do not deserve him. But I am selfish, and I want him. I am using him, indulging in his kindness, parasitizing his time and patience. I know it, and still I crave his touch, his praise, his smile. Sometimes, I let myself think he may want me too. But I cannot… I cannot ask it of him.” 

“Tell him.” Felix interrupted. 

An echo of Dimitri’s grief was grasping at the blue lions’ heart. To listen to their friend’s sadness and cruel fate… Tears were clinging to the eyes. Still Felix pressed on.

“Do not revel in your pity, whining about a love that can never be. Tell him, boar.”

“He is right. Is it a one-sided love, or are your feelings returned? You can never be sure if you don’t ask.”

“You should tell the professor, your highness.”

“Why do you think we are talking to you? We know about your love for the professor. But we also know about the professor’s affection for you.”

“Only an idiot will miss it.”

“We see the way he smiles at you.”

“How proud of you he is.”

“Don’t get me started on the lovestruck gazes.”

“He is always leaning toward you.”

“He trusts you to have his back.”

“When talking about you, his voice goes soft.”

“We see how he is happier with you.”

Dimitri was frozen under the blue lions’ avalanche of information and reassurances. The prince didn’t know what to think, what to believe. He wanted to trust them, to trust the sweet promises of a reciprocated affection. But the voices were here too, persistent. You do not deserve forgiveness. You do not deserve happiness. You do not deserve love.

“Byleth… he is… with me? I… do not deserve…”

The blue lions looked at each other. They had said enough for today. The next step, only Dimitri could work it out. But it would probably take time. Thankfully, Byleth would be there for him too.

“We want you two to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”

“But remember, if you hurt the professor, we will destroy you, future king or not.”

“Hey!”

“What? It’s the reason we were here in the first place!”

Dimitri let out a sombre laugh.

“I will destroy myself before I let it happen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Step 8: Walk together. Stay together.
> 
> (shovel talk edition)


	9. Words

At the academy, Dimitri had spent hours listening to Byleth. From the beginning, the prince had known that the professor was a man of a few word. He would always stay silent if sentences were not necessary, nodding and shaking his head to manifest his opinion. For this reason, people would find him quite difficult to read. His blank face was unnerving, his silence weird. Dimitri had gotten used to it quickly. The prince was reminded of Dedue. Both men would speak concisely, or stay silent. 

So Dimitri knew that Byleth meant every word he expressed, every thought he voiced. It was one of the reasons the prince had always been happy to receive the professor’s praise. Byleth’s remarks and compliments were genuine, not the work of lords and ladies trying to gain his favour. The professor was constructive and encouraging, speaking the truth while providing possible solutions. For the prince, it was a welcome sight. He had gotten fond of the professor’s presence, always seeking it. Before long, Dimitri realised that his affection ran deeper than simple admiration.

At first, the prince had been intrigued by Byleth. He was curious about this strong and mysterious mercenary, who had jumped to their aid. Regardless of his own feeling, Dimitri owned a debt to the man. He could become a formidable ally. Edelgard and Claude had sense it too. The three of them had offered a place for him in their respective lands, should he be interested. Byleth had only nodded, silent. Was he thinking about it? Overwhelmed by the attention? Dimitri had not been able to tell.

When their group had come back to Garreg Mach, the prince had been quite pleased to discover that Byleth would be staying at the monastery. He could ask for some sword fighting lessons, and maybe get to know the man who had saved his life and that of his comrades. What a surprise to learn that the mercenary would become their teacher!

Byleth had proved himself an excellent professor. Not only was he competent in the use of weapons, strategy, and magic, but he was also perceptive. He would know the students’ strengths and weaknesses, identify their secret talents, and notice the way they would work. After class, the professor would confront the blue lions about their worries, offer gifts and flowers to cheer them up, and reassure them with his presence alone.

How could Dimitri have any doubt about the professor’s inability to feel? At the start, the prince had feared that under his blank face, Byleth was unfeeling. That he was numbed to the tragedy of war and violence, so used to the life of a mercenary that all humanity had left him. Dimitri had feared he would become the same. He feared that one day, he would relish in the blood staining his hands. He feared to become the monster he had always hated. Ah! If he could see himself now.

Dimitri had always liked the professor’s voice. To him, it was comforting. Familiar. He heard it in the classroom, when Byleth regaled them with a tale from his mercenary’s past. He heard it in battle, clear and hurried, shouting orders and organizing battalions. He heard it at teatime, when it was only the two of them, and Dimitri had managed to make Byleth laugh. The sound had left the prince speechless, and had followed him into the day, crystalline and unforgettable.

How many times had he made a fool of himself, trying to cajole this laugh out of the professor again? Dimitri had gone to Alois for advice, with poor results. The prince had attempted to jest and joke with the teacher. He had been met with incomprehension, Byleth not understanding a thing. The professor had asked if he was alright, suggesting that a sunstroke had made him incoherent. Dimitri had gotten red, embarrassment evident. The attention Byleth had given him had lessen the blow to his pride. Still.

Dimitri had not been deterred in his attempts at making the professor smile and laugh. Byleth deserved to be as happy as he was making his students, the prince justified. The professor was doing so much for them! But privately, selfishly, Dimitri admitted that he just loved the sound. His friends had teased him endlessly, knowing, even if the prince hadn’t said it himself.

Now, Dimitri would kill to hear this laugh again. It was war, and there was no time to joke. Everyone was busy with various tasks and preoccupations, Byleth more than anyone else. Duty was a burden heavy to bear. Time spend with the blue lions was bitter-sweet: Sylvain would laugh, Ingrid would scold, Mercedes would be helpful, but an undercurrent of weariness remained. The professor would grace them with warm eyes and kind words. A smile if there were lucky. No laugh. Dimitri was missing the rare treat like a limb.

He wanted to hear it again. He wanted to hear the pearl of delight, the sound clear and carefree, unashamed. He wanted to see Byleth’s face light with surprise and happiness, laughing a concept still so foreign and new. He wanted to see the red to his cheeks, precious and fleeting. But how could Dimitri bring such a joyful feeling? He was a beast, not even a man. Unworthy but still craving. Mirth wasn’t an animal he could chase down and bring back to his beloved. What could he do?

So as he had done recently, Dimitri observed. He took the time to study the others blue lions. See who were laughing, when they were laughing, why there were laughing. Maybe if he could imitate them, he could bring Byleth joy. Should he ask them for advice?

Unaware of Dimitri’s torments, the professor was quietly reviewing some papers in the library. The prince had left his side, but Byleth wasn’t worried. Dimitri would be back for lunch, or later in the afternoon. He had stopped following him everywhere, taking some time for himself. Byleth had seen him with Dedue, training, or going to the market. It was good. The prince was opening up.

The though warmed the professor. He liked seeing Dimitri calmer, saner, happier. He was standing straighter, eye focused and voice stronger. He was taking care of himself, he was getting heal, he was bathing, he was tying his hair. He was trying. Of course, Dimitri’s ghosts hadn’t left him. The prince couldn’t let them go, his grief an infected wound that couldn’t close. For this, Dimitri would need time. And the pain would never go away. Byleth could understand. It was less than a year ago that his father had died. Would the sadness ever dull?

Byleth’s thoughts were interrupted by incoming footstep. Speak of the angels and you hear their wings. Dimitri’s pace was measured, but the age-old wood flooring of the library creaked under his steps. His cape and pelt flowed behind him, before coming to a stop in front of the professor. In his eye, the spark Byleth so like to see was back. Recently, the professor was seeing it in every glance Dimitri would grant him. It never failed to send a shiver down Byleth’s spine.

“Is it diner already?” Byleth asked, looking at the window.

“No.”

The professor tilted his head. What did he need then?

“I wanted to see you.”

It was not the first time Byleth heard those words coming from the prince. But it didn’t stop the warm he suddenly felt. Since his talk with Seteth, Byleth was terribly aware of all those new and strange feelings.

Dimitri was not saying everything else and was not moving either.

“Did it hurt?” The prince suddenly spoke.

“What?”

“Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven.”

Byleth frowned. Why was Dimitri bringing this now? His fall five years ago was something he though was behind them. And he would not have called the monastery heaven. While it was a holy place, it was hardly a home for the gods. Well, technically Sothis had inhabited the walls in Byleth’s body. Or maybe it was more metaphorical. The academy day at the monastery had been heaven compared to the hell of war. Still, Byleth’s disappearance was usually a difficult subject, with too much pain and regret attached to it. Did Dimitri fear he would disappear again?

“I don’t remember much. One moment I was fighting, and the next I fell and closed my eyes. Five years passed. I was asleep. But I am here now.”

Byleth had left his papers and quill on the desk and had come close to Dimitri. The professor took hold of one of Dimitri’s hands and squeeze, reassuring him of his warmness and tangibility.

“N-no I mean… Hum…Are you a god? Because you are the answer to all my prayers.”

Byleth was no god. Even now, fused with Sothis, possessing her power and essence, he hardly felt like an all-powerful being. He had barely begun to understand how to be a human. He couldn’t be a god. He wasn’t one. Goddess-blessed they called him, not understanding the extent of Sothis’ connection to him. Byleth had never explain. How did Dimitri learn of it? Would it change everything?

The professor could feel a tightness in his chest. Around him, the air was cold. He had stopped breathing.

“I am no god. I am a mortal.”

Dimitri’s eye was wide, and Byleth was trying to anchor himself in the blue iris. His grasp on Dimitri had become stronger, and he was afraid the prince was going to leave. He could. The professor didn’t know what he would do if it was the case. Panic was bubbling in Byleth’s mind, and he was trying hard to stifle it.

The teacher felt Dimitri catch his second hand, solid and warm. He was close, comforting. Byleth felt the fear recede, little by little, as the prince rubbed circles on the back of his palm. His gauntlet was hard and cold.

“Professor. Byleth. It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

The former mercenary focused on Dimitri’s voice, letting it lull him back to reality. After a few second, Byleth felt as if the worst has passed. He was calmer now, back to quiet water and not the waves of emotions he was not used to. In those moments, the professor felt utterly useless, incapable of controlling emotions still so new. He knew it was a work in progress, but it was frustrating. Would he always feel so strongly now?

“I am okay.” Byleth stated after a moment. Dimitri didn’t let go anyway.

“I am sorry.”

The professor must have look at the prince strangely, because he felt obligated to explain.

“Just now. It was something I said that make you froze. I am sorry.”

Byleth shook his head.

“The fault is mine. I got lost in my head.”

Dimitri let out a humourless laugh.

“I understand.”

He did. Byleth’s presence in his mind had been Sothis, familiar and supporting. Dimitri’s ghosts were persistent and cruel. Often, they would grab all of his attention.

“Thank you, Dimitri.”

A light flush appeared on the prince’s cheeks. As if burned, he let go of the professor’ hands, awkwardly hanging by his sides. Byleth found himself missing the contact. Silent prevailed, tense. It was unusual in Dimitri’s presence. The professor didn’t know what to do to break it. Should he reassure the prince again? It wasn’t his fault that Byleth had trouble reconciling Sothis’ fusion and his budding humanity. At the moment, Dimitri didn’t seem to want to push the subject again. The professor was grateful. One day, they would talk about it.

But for now, Byleth only wanted to spend time with Dimitri. The silence couldn’t last, and the professor was afraid Dimitri was going to bolt out of the room. Should he grab his hand again? Offer to go to lunch early? Start a new topic of conversation? He was no good at those type of things.

“Will you train with me?” Byleth finally blurted. 

~~~

Dimitri resigned himself: he didn’t know how to make Byleth laugh.

Jokes hadn’t worked when he was still a student, and he doubted it would work now. The prince hadn’t been too surprised to see that Sylvain’s advice hadn’t work either. Worst, one of the pick-up lines he had used had frozen Byleth into place. Dimitri didn’t understand why, but nonetheless he had felt bad. The suggestion of making fun of himself wouldn’t work too well. Dimitri wouldn’t know what to say, and he could already picture the worry in Byleth’s eyes.

Dimitri still felt bad, to have been the cause of one of the professor rare bout of overwhelming emotion. The sight of Byleth’s panic had left an ugly taste in the prince’s mouth. They hadn’t talk about it, and Dimitri would not push. It would be quite hypocritical in his situation. But mere words were not enough to excuse himself.

This afternoon, Byleth heard a knock on the door of his room. Letting his report down, the professor went to the entrance. And promptly let out a laugh at the sight that greeted him.

Dimitri was standing at the doorway, absolutely drenched despite the clear weather, scratches on his face, dirt on his hair, and wilting flowers in his hand. His face would have been stone cold, if not for the redness of his ears. His eye went wide with shock, his mouth hanging slightly open as if trying to speak. Byleth continued laughing for a few second, seeing as Dimitri seemed frozen in place. 

“Were you thrown into the pond once again?”

“… I fell. By myself. I was walking.”

“The scratches?”

“… One of the monastery’s cats wasn’t too happy when I stepped on his tail.”

“The crushed flowers?”

“… I was nervous.”

Byleth let out a fresh string of laughter.

“You have dirt on your face.”

The professor reached out to the prince’s cheek to brush it off. The contact was warm, and Byleth would have like to linger. But a sudden nervousness made him retract his hand. The professor tried offering a shy smile. As a second passed, Dimitri blinked. Regaining his composure, the prince finally extended the flower toward the professor.

“For you.”

Byleth felt something stir in his insides, like bubbles trying to escape. Their weight was becoming familiar in Dimitri’s presence, and while it was something new, the professor also sensed it could lead to something good. With care, Byleth grasped the bouquet Dimitri was offering him. The professor didn’t really understand why he was suddenly feeling nervous. It was not his first time receiving a gift. Nor was it the first time receiving a gift from Dimitri. 

Their hand brushed, Byleth acutely aware of the tenderness displayed by the prince. Dimitri’s strength was prodigious, often to the point of being dangerous. The professor himself had witnessed the feat of his Blaiddyd’s blood. Crushed lances. Crushed skulls. And now crushed flowers. But in this instant, Byleth could only see Dimitri’s care. He remembered the boy teaching orphans sword play with him. He recalled this tormented man spending time with the friends he had lost. He imagined his future king embracing his people, fair and just.

Their fingers lingered around the steam of the flowers, intertwined together. Their eyes had meet, but Byleth founded himself incapable of maintaining Dimitri’s gaze. The spark was there, shining, bright and hopeful. The professor felt blood rushing to his face. A blush. Byleth focused his attention on the flowers. Violets, forget-me-not, white roses, and orange blossom.

“Thank you.” Byleth said with a smile. 

Dimitri could only smile back, as his attention had been captured by the beautiful laugh he just heard again. For the first time in a while, the prince paid no mind to the ghosts.

### 

In his five years of isolation, Dimitri’s only company had been the voices. Father, mother, Glenn. They had never left him, not since the tragedy of Duscur. For he was alive, and they were dead, and it was because of him. He should have joined them.

They had always been there, on the back of his mind. They were there when he was training at the academy, encouraging him to hit harder, **stronger, faster**. They were there when he was resting, berating him for his idleness. They were there when he was falling in love with Byleth, **a silly crush, a passing fancy**. Dimitri had no time for distraction. Dimitri should be avenging them. Dimitri had no right to be happy while their deaths were left unpunished.

In the presence of the blue lions, of childhood friends and new comrades, of the professor, the prince had been able to ignore them. To focus on the present, on the voices of the living. He would listen to Sylvain’s rambling, Ashe’s tales, Ingrid’s lectures. He loved hearing the professor.

The dead had been louder when the flame emperor revealed themselves to be Edelgard. **Here she is, you can avenge us, just within your reach, so close, so close**. Then, the monastery had been attacked. The professor had disappeared. His friends had returned to their home to prepare for a war. Dedue had died protecting him (one more person dying for him. He didn’t deserve it.** It should have been you.**)

Dimitri was left alone once again. Something broke.

The ghosts were everywhere now, not a minute left without hearing their voices, forgotten and escaping his memories with each passing day. They demanded their tributes, the duty of the living to provide for the dead. They wanted Edelgard’s head. Dimitri could only offer them blood, the blood of countless lives he took without a care. Those people too joined the voices of those he had killed, disembodied and haunting, cutting and insulting.

At last, the visions would fade. Of the burning bodies of his family, he only remembered the smell and the voices. The faces of the soldiers he would forget. The nightmares were persistent but would only last for the night. The voices were never-ending. They would be no absolution for his crimes. He would kill Edelgard or die trying. Once she was dead, he would probably follow too. There would be nothing left for him.

Five years had passed in a blur. Dimitri couldn’t remember the days. It was only death and destruction, a fury boiling in his veins, and the whispers of the deceased. **Useless. Failure. Monster. Beast**. Dimitri tried to atone, but the piles of bodies would never be enough. They kept on calling him. His father, his mother, Glenn, the unknown corpses. Of all of the dead he had caused, the only one he would have like to hear had stayed silent. Even as Dimitri protected Byleth’s resting place, his beloved had never made himself known. The beast didn’t know if this was a good thing.

Until he saw him again in the goddess tower. His last broken piece had shattered then. The last remain of a hope he didn’t even know he had. At last, Byleth had joined the ghosts haunting him. Would his voice be kind? Or would he be cold and cruel as the rest of them? The phantom had offered a hand Dimitri couldn’t take.

Nowadays, even as he was getting better, the voices remained. Some days, it was tolerable, a recurring whisper in his head. **You don’t deserve it. Kill the girl. Avenge us**. Others were bad, and Dimitri could feel himself slip further, away from the living and toward the dead, the luring siren of vengeance growing stronger. How easy it would be to follow them, to fall back into his bad habits, bloody and violent, more beast than man. No one would miss him.

Byleth’s presence would anchor him. A brilliant light in a dark sea, beaconing him to the shores. He was warm, and alive, and for some reason, he was always there for him. **You don’t deserve it**. He couldn’t betray Byleth’s trust, not for this, not for anything. Byleth believed in him, believed he could be better. Dimitri had lost all faith in the goddess years ago, but he would always trust the professor.

Today, the voices were getting louder. Dimitri was remembering Byleth’s laugh, his smiles, the blush that had appeared just yesterday. It was something precious and fleeting, and the prince was drawn time and time again by the memory. Hope was blossoming in his chest. Maybe there was something good waiting for him… **Useless. Undeserving. He will die because of you. You will destroy him. Leave him.**

Dimitri’s path took him to the cathedral. Part of the building was still under repairs and would remain as such for months. But the prince saw people coming and going, monks and soldiers alike. Life had returned. Only weeks ago, Dimitri had been the solitary guardian and prisoner of this place. 

In the chapel, choir practice was taking place. The prince knew it and entered in silence. No one payed attention to him. Many of the participants’ eyes were closed, as they focused on their voice and their prayers. Dimitri didn’t care, not when the only thing he could hear was the voice of an angel. Byleth was conducting the choir, his voice leading the faithful. The prince hid himself in a corner and listened.

Every other voice paled in comparison to Byleth’s. Even that of the ghosts. When Dimitri focused on the professor’s song, clear and heartfelt, the whispers in his mind stayed silent. They knew they were no match for this incredible soul, a god living among men. Or maybe like Dimitri himself they were entranced by his power and beauty, forfeiting their vengeance for a moment and basking in the brightness of his presence.

The choir came to an end. One by one, people left the building, until only Byleth remained. Dimitri left the shadow of the pillar and came into the light where the professor was standing.  
“Did you wait long?” He asked.

Dimitri shook his head. To hear this voice, he would wait years again.

~~~

Byleth wasn’t unobservant. From years as a mercenary, he had honed his skills, to survive, to keep ahead. He had trained his ears and his eyes to detect the people trying to attack him. He could feel the murderous intention directed toward him. Even in everyday life, he would notice many things people didn’t. 

But for the longest time, he hadn’t known what to do with the clues he was given. Apart from discerning friend from foe, he didn’t understand the meaning behind so many gestures. A soldier trying to cheer up his comrade, a boy offering flowers, smiles and whispers exchanged between couples. Byleth could see, but he couldn’t understand. Then he had come to the monastery. And as feelings bloomed and as he lived with people in this calm environment, Byleth learned.

Byleth learned to put his observation to good use. He searched for a weakness in an opponent guard, not to kill but to teach. He looked out for his students, to catch them before they could escape the lesson. He observed what they liked, to try and offer them comfort in time of sadness. It was very difficult to hide from the professor when he was in the same room. Five years hadn’t changed that.  
That’s why Byleth knew Dimitri was sneaking into choir practice. He could hear the big doors of the chapel opening and notice the unmistakable presence of the future king. But he was probably the only one. The monks and villagers where facing away from the entrance, focused on their prayers. Byleth himself had no care for the faith, but while he sang, he could imagine Sothis joining him.

Like clockwork, every time choir practice would take place, Dimitri would join in as a silent listener. At first, Byleth had entertained the idea that the prince wanted to go back to the chapel that had been his refuge. But he never stayed long enough, only until the singing ended. It couldn’t be it. Did he want to sing too? Yet Dimitri would only stand by the side, never joining in. He hadn’t really like to sing back at the academy either, even if he did participate once prompted. 

After some sessions of choir practice, the professor realised: Dimitri didn’t want to join. He just wanted to listen. Byleth could sympathize with the sentiment. So, he pretended not to notice the prince. Dimitri made no move to make himself known. And like that another sort of silent ritual started between them.

When Byleth knew the prince was here, he would sing louder, his voice more focused. It was in part an unconscious thing, the professor had noticed, but also an effort on Byleth’s part. It was as if he was singing for Dimitri in a way. The sentiment brought warmness in the professor’s chest. Even if he knew that many more talented singers where participating in the choir. Dimitri probably wasn’t listening to anyone in particular. It was more of an appreciation for singing.

Practice would end, and Dimitri would appear by his side as if he had just entered. Byleth pretended he hadn’t notice him before. They would leave together, Dimitri trailing after the professor for a moment, or staying by his side for the rest of the day. Those where bad days, Byleth knew. He would pay extra attention to Dimitri.

They headed toward the mess for lunch. The prince’s hand was brushing Byleth as they walked, and the professor had the sudden desire to hold it. And so he did, slowly, allowing Dimitri the time to escape. But he had nothing to fear: the prince grasped his palm tightly. The warmness was back in Byleth’s belly. Yet he couldn’t ignore the trembling of Dimitri’s fingers, and the strength of his grip. Bad day it was.

For the rest of the day, Byleth tried to entertain the prince to distract him from his ghosts. But he had work to do, a load of it, and he couldn’t focus on him at all time. Dimitri didn’t say a thing and didn’t complain. He stayed in Byleth’s presence, silent, a throwback to the previous weeks. No one in the strategy meeting said a thing, nor during training. They understood. Dimitri was getting better, but he was far from okay. And probably wouldn’t be for a long time. Unfortunately, they had no time. And they needed their king. 

When the night fell, Byleth excused himself and Dimitri. The professor gently took hold of the prince’s hand and guided him to their room. Dimitri didn’t resist. His face was close off, unreadable. Only their footsteps made sound as they approached the dormitory. They entered, Byleth shutting the door behind them. The tremors in Dimitri’s body were back in full force. It was like the prince was barely containing himself, ready to explode with grief or rage. Byleth didn’t really know which emotion was overcoming him. But it wasn’t important to help him.

“No…no, no!”

Dimitri had started talking, but he wasn’t addressing Byleth. His gaze was unfocused, seeing things that weren’t there. The professor hadn’t let go of Dimitri’s hand. The grip was firm, too much maybe but Byleth didn’t say a thing. The teacher took hold of the prince’s other tightened fist. With kind fingers, Byleth begin prying the palm open. He felt the resistance in the muscles. 

“Dimitri. Can I?”

Byleth asked, tugging Dimitri gauntlets. The prince didn’t respond to him, a litany of words escaping him. Still, the professor delicately took off the metallic protection, revealing calloused hands and trembling fingers. Byleth started tracing soothing touches into the palm. Usually, the professor let Dimitri’s episode ran its course. Byleth couldn’t really do much more, holding his hands and reassuring the prince with his physical presence. Little by little, Dimitri would calm down, returning to his senses.

This time, it wasn’t working. Dimitri’s speech was still erratic, and he wasn’t stopping. Byleth felt the trembling of the prince’s body, broken sentences escaping his mouth. The professor didn’t know what to do. Should he wait? Should he tried to talk to him?

“I swear I will do it… no, do not look at me with those accusing eyes… No, no, do not!”

“Dimitri…”

“Do not touch him. He… I will do it, I will! Just wait…”

“Dimitri.”

Suddenly, Dimitri’s head snapped toward the professor. His eye was wide and wild, and possibly surprised. Even as his gaze bored into the teacher, he wasn’t really seeing him. The ghosts’ grasp was tight on his mind. Forcefully, Dimitri brought Byleth closer with a brisk swing of his arm. The professor crashed into him, and was swiftly enclosed in strong limbs. The contact would have been nicer if metal plates weren’t pressing into Byleth’s back, the embrace too powerful, on the edge of violent.

Dimitri was getting angrier, on the defensive. 

“Do not think I have forgot my duty! Your deaths will be avenged!”

No one responded of course. The dead couldn’t talk. Dimitri’s grasp was tightening again, and Byleth wasn’t sure if a normal human would have survived the deathly embrace. Byleth needed to react. Maybe knock him out? But how could he do that without hurting Dimitri? Unaware of Byleth’s musing and worries, the prince started to laugh, a demented sound with no affection. It resonated, loud in the silence of the room, and it broke Byleth’s heart.

“You think I do not know?! Everyone I love, they die! Father, stepmother, Glenn…because of me…”

“Dimitri!” Byleth interrupted sharply.

The professor had free his hands and was forcing Dimitri’s head down to look at him in the eyes. His sight was still glazed over, but he was blinking. His speech stopped as well as his breathing, as if any noise would put notice on him. Byleth pushed on.

“Do not look at them. Focus on me. I am with you. Dimitri, you need to breathe with me…”

For the next minutes, Byleth kept on talking, more than he probably had in his whole life. He didn’t know when to stop, even as Dimitri started regaining his senses, his grip a gentle touch instead of the vice it had been earlier. The professor spoke reassurances and encouragements, his eyes locked on the prince. The distant look had faded, to be replace by a deep fear, and something akin to shame. 

Dimitri opened his mouth, but no sentences made it past his lips.

“Do you want me to say awake with you?” Byleth proposed.

“No I cannot… do not worry about me. I will be fine.”

“I want to help.”

“You already did. Do not trouble yourself more.”

Byleth made a non-committal noise, and proceed to not move. Dimitri once again looked as if he wanted to protest, until his head sagged down. He appeared exhausted, both mentally and physically, barely supporting himself, leaning against Byleth.

“I am tired.” Dimitri’s voice was bitter.

The professor didn’t comment, taking hold of the prince’s hand once again. Immediately, he leaded them to the bed, and made Dimitri sit. Not losing time, Byleth went for his tea set, using a quick fire spell to boil the water. He then added the camomile flowers and brought both teapot and tea-cup to the nightstand. The prince hadn’t move, and Byleth approached slowly.

“Can I take your armour off?”

Silence, then a nod. The professor worked on undressing Dimitri. By the time the protective gear was off, the camomile tea was ready. Byleth handed a cup to the prince who took it without a fight. Free of his armour, the professor could see the bone-deep tiredness in his shoulder, and the absolute resignation on his face. Gone was the blazing inferno of his rage, like the flame had burned out to only leave a shell of a man. Dimitri was silent, hands on his cup, and gaze down.

He would not talk of it tonight. Nor tomorrow, not for the moment. But Byleth knew that one day, Dimitri would be ready. And the professor would be there.

Slowly, and probably forcing himself, the prince drank a sip. The room was quiet, and neither Dimitri nor Byleth had more energy to talk. And what would they say? Still, Byleth didn’t like the stillness, worrying that the voices of the dead would come back to haunt Dimitri. To fill the silence, Byleth started to hum.

Once empty, the cup was set aside. The professor joined Dimitri on the bed, the two of them laying down. Dimitri would probably stay awake. As Byleth settled, his humming stopped. The prince squeezed one of his hand.

“Continue. Please.” He asked in the softest voice.

How could Byleth said no? The humming started anew, stronger now that he knew Dimitri was paying attention. Words joined the quiet singing, intoning a lullaby both forgotten and familiar.

“In times flow…”

In two days’ time, they will march for Gronder Field.

### 

The battlefield was in chaos, as armies collided. Fire and arrows where raining from above. Infantry and cavalry clashed on the ground. Claude was right. As far as class reunion went, this one was the worst in history. Battalions of soldiers in red and blue were already going at each other. The former lions had lost no time in joining the fight, giving and executing orders.

Dimitri himself was focusing on Edelgard, hacking and destroying any that stood in his path. The subject of his vengeance was so close. Would the voices calm down once the dead got their tribute? In a way, Byleth hoped the war would end today. But this would be too optimistic.

Despite the interception of their messenger, the Leicester Alliance had come with troops at Gronder field. They were staying at the side, waiting to see the way the tides would turn. Byleth had recognized Claude himself on a wyvern. Trusting his allies to keep safe, the professor had rushed to meet with the leader of the Alliance and former student. They had no reason to fight each other. They could even join forces against the Empire.

Before the battle, the professor had given clear order: do not attack the soldiers from the Alliance, except to defend yourselves. The Kingdom’s troops had agreed wholeheartedly: Dimitri hadn’t care. If he could get Edelgard’s head, he would use both Kingdom, Church and Alliance.

As Byleth got closer to the master strategist, battalions started arming their bows. A movement from Claude made them hold. The professor saw an easy stretch of the lips on the former golden deer leader’s face. While the smile was only a facade, Byleth could see true relief in his eyes.

“Well hello Teach! What a pleasant surprise. I see the reports of your dead were greatly exaggerated.”

“Hello Claude.”

“So, what news do you have for me?”

“The Kingdom of Faerghus would like to join forces with the Leicester Alliance against the Adrestian Empire.”

“And the Leicester Alliance accept. Edelgard conquest must be stopped.”

Byleth nodded. Claude would have like to tease, but now wasn’t the time. Briefly, the two men started to strategize, bringing together the plans they had made for the battle. Once a basic tactic was reached, Byleth started heading back toward the fight, toward his blue lions.

“Teach!”

The professor turned around to see Claude mounting his wyvern again, weapon on the ready.

“I’m truly glad to fight by your side.”

A small smile made his way to Byleth’s face. The sentiment was shared: the professor would rather avoid unnecessary deaths and battles, especially against former students that were once dear to him too. 

As Byleth made his way back to Dimitri, he gave new orders and informed everybody of their joining forces with the Alliance. The news was received positively, with many sights of relief. Now they could really focus on the enemy without risking an attack from behind. And it was double the soldiers against the Empire. The battle that had seemed so gloom before was already looking better. 

With renew vigour, the soldiers charged against the empire. Byleth heard lances clashing, as well as arrows being fired, and the roar of a wyvern. Alone, the professor pushed forward to the blue cape and blond hair he had left behind, dodging enemies and allies alike. The battle hadn’t wait, and corpses were already lingering the earth. 

The Empire stood at a disadvantage by fighting against two opponents at once. Quickly, the red troops started to lose ground. Still, the fight was far from over, as the Empress set fire to the central platform. Byleth reacted quickly, moving allies and batalions away. On the frontline, Dimitri pressed on. By his side, the professor could finally see Edelgard in the distance, pale hair and scarlet armour unmistakable. 

In the end, their victory at gronder Field left a bitter taste in their mouth. The battle was won, but countless lives had been sacrificed. Edelgard had been heavily injured, but had managed to escape before she could be caught or killed. 

Dimitri was silent, but the tremors of his hands were barely concealing his fury. He gave brief orders to his battalion, before joining Byleth’s side. The prince hadn’t rush off in a blind rage, nor started screaming at ghosts, and for that Byleth was proud of him. It may have been inappropriate, but he couldn’t help but smile a little.

As for the others blue lions, all of them had made it alive. Sylvain had been injured protecting Felix, and Ashe might have broken his arm. Mercedes and Annette were still attending to wounded soldiers, while Dedue was helping carrying them to the infirmary. Ingrid was scouting too, searching for survivors. Gilbert and Rodrigue had joined with the prince and the strategist. They would need to organize a quick war council with Claude and the Alliance’s generals to decide of their next course of action. From what Byleth could see, the Alliance was also doing okay. Still it would be best to let Claude gather his troops before ambushing him for a meeting.

As Gilbert left their discussion to bring orders to the army, Byleth noticed a girl approaching them. It was an orphan maiden that had joined their ranks some months prior. What could she possibly want? Did she find out something?

Everything happened so fast. Once the girl was close to their group, Byleth had a strange impression. Despite her sweet smile, the professor felt something akin to deja-vu. As the maiden unsheathed a dagger and rushed out for Dimitri, Byleth was suddenly reminded of Monika. He saw blood-red hair, and a blade suddenly piercing his father’s back. Again, as he still couldn’t save his father. Time had stopped, useless. For the first time in forever, his heart had broken. He wanted to scream, but no sound escaped him. Byleth felt as helpless as he had this day.

The professor froze. He could only watch as Rodrigue stepped in, taking the attack meant for his prince. He could hear Dimitri’s scream. Rodrigue started speaking, addressing the professor. Byleth didn’t want to listen. No! No this wouldn’t do. Byleth couldn’t save his father. But he could save Rodrigue. He could do it. He was stronger this time.

The flow of time brought Byleth back to a few seconds. As the girl revealed her blade, Byleth ran in front of Dimitri. The metal clashed against the sword of the creator, and the maiden opened wide eyes, surprised by the professor’s reflexes.

“Byleth!” The strategist heard from Dimitri.

Not a second later, the girl was cut down by Rodrigue, quickly falling to the floor.

“Help me…brother.”

She was dead a second later. Byleth didn’t know if he should pity her or not. But he had no time to think. Dimitri was in front of him, his blue eye wide with worry. The professor felt his hand on his cheek, tender as the prince spoke urgently.

“Are you alright?”

“I am. She didn’t hurt me.”

Dimitri’s gaze fell to Byleth’s stomach where the dagger would have impaled him. No wound. The prince let out a sigh of relief. Then, as Byleth faced the blue iris again, the professor felt himself leave the ground. Dimitri was hugging him, the strength of his embrace detaching him from the earth below. His face was hidden in the crook of Byleth’s neck. As natural as breathing, the professor’s hand went around his shoulders. Suddenly, Byleth felt joy. He was warm and happy. Dimitri was safe, Rodrigue too. The battle had been won, even if the war raged on. Did he had the right to those feelings, when so many were suffering?

Byleth didn’t want to move, and Dimitri didn’t let go. The prince was looking at him now. His eye was clear, sparking with joy too, with comfort and solace. For once, Byleth didn’t see any sadness or grief. The professor couldn’t help it, a laugh escaping him, bright and hopeful. Dimitri was speechless, looking at the man in his arms with renew awe.

“You called me Byleth.” The professor announced finally.

Dimitri cheeks turned pink.

“I… did.”

“I like it.”

For a second, Dimitri was at a lose for words. But before he could add anything else, Rodrigue’s voice cut in. The prince let go of the professor, who took a step back. But their hands were still joined, and Byleth couldn’t quite hide a small smile.

“Dimitri, is everything alright?”

“We are fine, thank you.”

Hope was high, a brilliant torch in the heart of both Dimitri and Byleth. As they discussed with Rodrigue, and later on the war council, this warm flame wouldn’t die. Edelgard had escaped. The dead count was high on every front. The kingdom capital still needed to be reconquered. The war was far from over.

But for the prince and the professor, it was time to use their words.

~~~

Rain was pouring outside. For a moment, Dimitri took the time to rejoice in the cold, familiar yet setting in his bones. It reminded him of his childhood in Fhiardiad, of the drop that would have been snow rather than rain. It reminded him of his time alone in the chapel, as he made no move to fight the elements taking a swing at him. It reminded him of his tears, of the discussion he just had with Rodrigue hours prior.

After the failed assassination attempt, the duke had insisted on talking to him. The worry in his voice had made Dimitri agreed. He was getting weaker and weaker to those display of emotions. Would a beast be this compassionate? The voices were only a whisper, no words to be made of their incessant muttering.

Rodrigue spoke of his ghosts. He spoke of the dead, how it had been their choice to defend him, not out of duty but out of love. He spoke of how proud he was to see him now, prince and future king. Dimitri had protested, regret and shame familiar companions. Rodrigue had insisted, pushed, not letting go like previous times.

“Your life is your own. It belongs to no other.”

Dimitri had cried in Rodrigue’s arms like a child. At last, he felt free from a weight he had bear for nine years.

And now, Dimitri was feeling lost. Everything was easier when he was a beast. Fight, survive. After the battle at Gronder field, he would have rush to Enbarr with no hesitation. Everything to get Edelgard’s head. But now… he couldn’t. He couldn’t disappoint Rodrigue, he couldn’t disappoint his friends, he couldn’t disappoint his people. He couldn’t disappoint Byleth.

Like the answer to his prayers, the professor joined him outside.

The rain was quickly soaking his clothes, but he didn’t seem to care. Drenched as he was, under the rain on a paved floor, he had never been so beautiful. For Dimitri, it was like seeing him for the first time. He was ethereal, bright and tentative. He felt like hope, like forgiveness, like the possibility of a better future. Piercing eyes were boring into him, powerful but kind. Dimitri didn’t dare turn away, even as tears were threatening to fall again.

“Father, stepmother, Glenn… they all died and left me behind. I was afraid you would join them too. I could no bear thinking of a word where I would have lost you again. It was my fault you were attacked. But I cannot hide anymore. I cannot pursue the descent of a beast. I must become a man again. But… I feel lost.”

Byleth had gotten closer. Dimitri could not stop now, or he feared the words would never come out.

“I feel lost. I do not know what to do. I do not know how to live. For nine years, vengeance had been my only path. Eating, training, getting stronger… everything so that my ghosts would finally rest. It was the only thing that kept me alive. My only reason to keep moving forward…But now… 

You seem to have all the answers… So tell me. Please, tell me… Who – or what- should I live for?”

Tears were escaping the prince. Dimitri felt so empty, so confused. But Byleth was here before him, patient and kind, extending his hand in a silent offer.

“Dimitri. You have suffered enough. You must forgive yourself, and live for what you believe in. You will never be alone on your journey. Rodrigue, Gilbert, Dedue, Felix, Sylvain, Ingrid, Ashe, Annette, Mercedes, Flayn. Me.”

“Live for what I believe in… I am a murderous monster. Could one such as I truly hope for a happy life?”

The prince stared at the offered hand. Byleth was smiling encouragingly, a tiny thing, filled with love and hope. How would Dimitri resist? He took the palm delicately.

“Your hands are so warm… Have they always been?”

It was good, but not quite enough. It wasn’t enough to convey the depth of Dimitri feelings and affection. He needed to start using his voice again. To mend broken bonds. To apologize. To treat Byleth like a man and not a beast. Holding Byleth’s hand, Dimitri felt braver, stronger. Before he lost this feeling, he needed to speak. He would regret it all his life otherwise. The prince didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. They were at war.

“Byleth.”

Even speaking his name was hard. Dimitri felt like an adolescent again, foolish and vulnerable. He tried a second time.

“Byleth. I am still not alright. I still have so much to think about. I have to apologize to all of you who suffered because of me. I need to retake my responsibilities as a leader. As a person too. I need time to get better, I know. I am underserving of you, but I could never thank you enough. For your patience, for your attention…”

“For you love”, Dimitri wanted to add. But he couldn’t say it. He desired, but he didn’t know. He didn’t dare.

“I need to get better. The war must end. The empire must be stopped. Once it is done…”

Would the future be so kind? Would all of them made it alive? Would the war truly end? Dimitri hoped. He hoped like never before, for this brighter future. He wanted to believe in this idyllic vision. For it to come to pass, he would live, he would fight, he would atone.

“I love you, Byleth. I wish to share my life with you. I want to have you, if you will have me. I will court you properly, with flowers, jewellery, lands, whatever you want, I will give it to you! Will you… will you wait for me a little longer?”

Byleth’s smile was brighter than all the stars in the sky. His free hand went to Dimitri’s cheek like a caress, the thumb tracing one of the tears falling down. In amazement, Dimitri saw a similar teardrop escape his beloved, mixing with the rain.

“I don’t care for flowers, jewellery or lands. I only want you. I see your efforts. The food you brought me. The battles spent at your side. The nights we shared. The quiet moments together. The touches we exchanged, caring for each other’s. I stand by your side.”

Dimitri couldn’t believe the emotions he felt in Byleth’s voice. The trust. The affection. The **love**. Dimitri was crying again.

“I… I will wait for you. I promise.” Byleth swore.

Dimitri embraced this beautiful, selfless, perfect man. His beloved. Joy was bubbling in the both of them. Next, they were laughing, light and happy. Dimitri was spinning Byleth like a lovestruck fool.

Above them, the rain stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Step 9: Vocalize. Use your words.


End file.
